


Home isn't just a place

by ElliahRose



Series: Let me pave the path until you come back [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner is a Good Doctor, Civil War? Haven't heard of her before, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, He's both, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra Peter Parker, Hydra is a meanie, I'm so sorry, Natasha and Mj are murder buddies, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, No movie compliant whoops, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Pepper Potts deserves an award, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Sick Peter Parker, Steve and Tony are best buds cuz I say so, Tony Stark really needs a hug man, Whoops did I mention that there was gonna be angst?, and bro, my bad..., somebody help this poor family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:04:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 51,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliahRose/pseuds/ElliahRose
Summary: Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark has been through a lot in his life. Luckily he has a really good family to help him through all his problems. Peter was closer than ever with his parents---sort of---and his Aunt was okay and things finally seemed to be going back to normal.Of course with Peter’s luck it wasn’t going to last.With Hydra being Hydra and having nefarious plots to backup their evil ones, a strange sickness, a missing teen, as well as Peter’s crippling PTSD, Peter’s life may just spiral out of control once more.Thank god for the Avengers, right?Sequel to: Finding Their Way Home
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & The Avengers, Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Series: Let me pave the path until you come back [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618561
Comments: 141
Kudos: 664





	1. Prologue

“Peter!”

Peter lifted his head from the book he was reading at the shout of his name. Peter rolled his eyes with a fond smile. No matter how many times Aunt May stayed at the tower, she still couldn’t get the hang of using FRIDAY for messages. 

Peter set his book down on his bed and quickly made his way to the kitchen where his family was all bustling about in the room. Tony and Pepper were both setting the table while the Avengers bickered and laughed amongst themselves. May was serving platters of food. Peter smiled at the smell. 

Looks like Pepper’s cooking lessons have paid off. 

“Hey Pete.” Tony said, waving Peter over to the table. Peter smiled and walked over to him, giving him a quick hug before taking the plate from his hand and setting it down. “What had you so busy upstairs?” 

“The book for English,” Peter said. “It’s really interesting! Did you know that the Great Gatsby has been banned from schools like seven times since it was written?”

“I did not,” Tony said with a grin. “Why’d they do it?”

Peter hummed. “Probably all the alcohol, drugs and sex.” Peter shrugged. “We have to read the censored version of it and it’s still pretty out there. I wonder what the original is like…?” 

Steve looked up at that. “I think I have a copy of it somewhere…” Steve said. “I remember my Ma reading it. I’d have to look through all my old stuff.”

“See! Grandpa’s got you covered!” Tony said with a laugh. Steve scowled. Pepper lightly smacked Tony’s arm and Tony just laughed even harder. Peter grinned fondly at his family before taking a seat next to Natasha. 

“Hey Auntie Nat,” he said with a grin. “Any big plans for the day?”

“Not really,” she said with a smile. “Your Dad has a meeting with Fury that the rest of us aren’t invited to.” Peter let out a soft chuckle when Tony let out an over dramatic groan. 

“I don’t see why I need to go,” he said, collapsing into the chair next to Peter with a loud huff. “That pirate has been so far up my ass lately! I swear, someone needs to tell him that it’s my booty, not his.” 

Pepper smacked his arm again. “Language!” she said. “Your son is sitting right next to you!”

“It’s okay,” Peter said, smirking at Tony mischievously. “I’ve heard him say worse.”

Tony looked at him in shock. “The betrayal!” he shouted. “My own son! How could you?” 

“Alright you guys,” May said bringing the food to the table. “Let’s eat! If we talk about this anymore, Pepper may blow a fuse.” 

Pepper laughed and Tony took the opportunity to kiss his wife. While Pepper was distracted he carefully stole a pancake off her plate. Peter covered his giggle with his hand as Pepper looked at her plate in confusion. It only took a second for her to realize what happened and when she did she scowled at Tony and refused to give him another kiss. 

The rest of the morning continued in domestic bliss as Peter’s family joked and laughed around the breakfast table.

Peter smiled. 

Finally, it seemed like his life was looking up. 

.

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XX  
x

Tony cornered Nat after breakfast was over. Peter was chatting with May about something in the living room while Pepper knitted beside them and the Avengers were locked in an intense game of Mario Kart, leaving the perfect opening for Tony to talk to her. 

“What’s the meeting about?” he asked her, nodding at her gratefully as she piled the dishes into the sink. 

“I don’t know,” Natasha said, cleaning up the rest of the breakfast mess. She frowned. “But something is going on. Fury has been stressed out and he keeps sending out strange missions.”

“Like what?” Tony asked. 

Natasha grinned. “Classified.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. He _hated_ when they responded with that. Tony could never tell if that answer meant it was nothing or if it was _something_. Tony just huffed and rolled up his sleeves, filling the sink with water and grabbed the sponge. 

“If he just wants me to consult on _another_ weapons division,” he said mock threateningly. “I’m going to explode.”

Natasha laughed. 

“I’ll tell Pepper to write your eulogy.” 

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XX  
X

The water was dripping loudly against the floor as the cold draft breezed into the stone room. He entered the room with a strong and commanding presence, and instantly the hushes chatter was silenced. 

He stood there, his eyes sweeping the small crowd before he found what he was looking for. He grinned and stepped forward, everyone else scuttling away from him, bowing their heads in respect. (And fear.)

“Yes…” he said, his eyes lighting up with cruel satisfaction. “This is perfect.”

“Sir?”

“I think it’s finally time to show the world just how superior you are.” he said, the folder in his hands made a crackling noise as he clenched his fists. The bright red stood out against the pale yellow paper and everyone could plainly see words, _Experiment 2176---Dr. Zemo_ written in hasty penmanship. “Yes this is just perfect. Are you ready?”

“Yes sir.”

He smiled. 

“Good. Prepare for transport…” he then turned to leave, sending one last look at the person in the shadows. “Make me proud… Experiment 2177. The _new_ and _improved_.”


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has his meeting with Fury and learns some things he’d rather not have. Peter struggles with nightmares, luckily he has his dad to help him.

Tony groans as FRIDAY reminds him to wake up. He snuggles in closer to his wife and tries to fall back asleep. He is just about asleep once more when Pepper nudges him gently. Tony whines. “Noooo.” he says, his voice muffled from Pepper’s shoulders. “Lemme sleep.”

“You have a meeting with Fury today,” Pepper reminds him gently. “If you miss it then he’ll come here.”

Tony lets out an irritated huff before sitting up, his eyes blinking against the sudden light in their room. “This sucks.” he concludes, his eyes wandering over to the alarm clock on his bedside table, the time reading _7:04_. 

Pepper laughs. “I know,” she says with mock sympathy. “Can you believe it? You have to wake up before nine AM! _Oh the horror_!”

“You’re mean.” he says with a pout. Pepper chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“I’m sorry baby,” she says. “But you gotta get up. I don’t want Fury storming into our house yelling because you ghosted him at four thirty in the morning. _Again_.” 

Tony groans once more before forcing himself out of bed and into the shower. He quickly got ready, brushing his teeth, putting on a suit, and finding the perfect tie that says ‘ _I don’t want to be here, it’s too early in the morning for this shit and also fuck you_ ’. 

He decided to go with the beige one. 

Tony pouted as he downed his second mug of coffee. Peter wasn’t awake yet and Tony didn’t want to wake him up. He was pretty sure Peter has been having trouble sleeping, but he hasn’t said anything and Tony didn’t want to push just yet. 

The relationship between him and his son had improved remarkably over the past few months. It’d been almost three months since everything went down with Hydra and they had slowly been getting closer and closer. 

They still had their fights and occasional setbacks, but for the most part it had been getting better. Peter still didn’t regularly call Tony ‘Dad’, but every now and then he would and that always made Tony’s day. 

He had talked to May about it and she had told him that Peter was trying to get more open when it came to calling Tony ‘Dad’ but he still struggled. But no matter what Peter called him, Tony decided, he would still be happy. 

“Meeting?”

Tony looked up to see Steve returning from his morning jog. Tony just grunted in response and poured himself another cup of coffee. Steve chuckled and walked past him, pulling out a water bottle and downing it in a second. 

(Tony hated whenever he did that. It was unnatural. No one should be able to drink that much water so quickly.)

“When are you supposed to be there?” Steve asked, tossing the water bottle in the recycling can. 

“First of all---pick that bottle up and reuse it. We’re trying to save the environment here,” Tony said, pointing at the crumpled plastic in the bin. Steve knew better than to start that argument again and just picked it up and refilled it with more water. “And second of all---too damn early. It’s not even seven thirty and that pirate wants me to be there by eight.”

“Tony it’s seven forty-five.” Steve said with a frown. Tony looked back at the clock and frowned. 

“Oh shit.” he said in monotone, continuing to slowly sip from his coffee mug. Steve stared at him for a few seconds, an exasperated expression resting on his face. Tony raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to get going? You’re going to be late.” Steve said. Tony shrugged. 

“Eh. I’m always late,” he said. “I’m also fashionable. Hence the term _fashionably late_. I coined that one.”

Steve opened his mouth to refute that but thought better of it at the last second. Instead he merely shook his head, offered a goodbye and promptly left the kitchen. Tony scowled at the place where the super soldier had just been standing. 

“Coward.” he muttered under his breath. He’d been hoping that Steve would ask about what that phrase meant or at the very least disagree with him so that Tony could prove him wrong and delay his meeting by another half hour. 

But instead Steve decided to bite his tongue and leave Tony to rush out of the tower to make it to the airport in time to see Fury’s disapproving glare. 

“You’re late.” he said, gesturing for Tony to follow him onto the helicarrier. 

“Maybe you’re just incredibly early.” Tony said with an impish grin. Fury just glared harder. 

“Shut up and sit down Stark.” he said. Tony stuck his tongue out at Fury when his back was turned only to freeze when he said, “I saw that.”

“How?!” Tony cried. “You only have _one eye_!”

Fury breathed in deeply. “I am a goddamn super spy. I can tell when a bratty kid decides to stick his tongue out at me behind my back.”

Tony just sunk into the chair and crossed his arms defensibly. “I’m not a kid.” he muttered under his breath. Fury just raised an eyebrow. “What’s this meeting about?”

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Fury asked. Tony opened his mouth to say bad news when Fury cut him off. “That was a joke. The good news first.” Tony just glared as Fury turned around to show a screen rising up from the floor. 

“Barnes is doing well in his healing,” Fury said. “He is almost completely free of conditioning.” 

“That's the good news?” Tony asked. “Then what’s the bad?”

“Hydra is being quite the pain lately.” Fury said. Tony scoffed. 

“When _aren’t_ they?”

Fury glared. “They seem to be exceptionally pissed that their favorite doctor was killed under questionable circumstances.”

Tony froze. His hands clenched at his sides as he forced himself to remain impassive. “Oh?” he said in a disinterested tone. “And?” 

“And they’re punishing us by being more obvious about their evil-doing.” Fury said. 

“Sounds to me like they’re helping us,” Tony said. “Isn’t that what we wanted? For them to be _easy_ to catch?”

“Not when there’s too much for us to catch,” Fury sighed. “We don’t have enough manpower to go to every single suspected Hydra case.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. Fury leveled him with a glare. 

“This is your mess, so I want you to _fix it_.” 

.

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XX  
x

_“So good to see you 2176.” the Doctor said with a twisted smile. “I missed you so much, you know. Are you ready to have some fun?”_

_“How...h-how are you here?” Peter stuttered, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes._

_“Oh Peter,” the Doctor said, shaking his head at Peter and leveling him with a condescending smile. “You didn’t really think I left, did you?”_

_“Please…” Peter said softly._

_“It’s time for your punishment 2176.”_

Peter shot up with a scream, his heart pounding against his chest. Peter instantly curled in on himself, tears working their way into his eyes. His body shook and he wrapped his arms around his knees and held himself even tighter. 

Peter sobbed into his knees, a feeling of helplessness rising in his chest. Even after all these months of being safe and well-provided for he was still suffering from nightmares. Peter felt utterly pathetic. Some kind of superhero he was, right? 

Peter loosely grasped his hair and tugged in frustration, his breathing picking up as he thought about the nightmare. It’d been nearly three months since everything went down at the Hydra base and Peter seemed to be getting better.

He thought he was getting better. 

He was _supposed_ to be getting better. 

Was there something wrong with him? Was he broken? Why did he feel like the world was closing in on him just from having a nightmare about a man who literally could never hurt Peter again? How pathetic could you get?

“--eter! Peter you need to calm down! Peter stop it, you’re hurting yourself!” Peter flinched back when he felt something touch his arm. 

He scooted back as far as he could and looked up, his fear-filled eyes frantically searching the room for a threat. Some of the panic loosened at the sight of Tony sitting on his bed, looking at him with concern. 

“T-Tony?” Peter asked, his teeth chattering. 

“Yeah it’s me, bud,” Tony said softly, gently scooting closer to Peter. “Are you with me?” Peter nodded, his head resting on his knees as he attempted to control his breathing. 

“‘M sorry.” Peter mumbled against his knee. 

Tony tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Why are you sorry, Pete?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I told FRIDAY not to.” Peter admitted. Tony stared at him with wide eyes.

“You asked FRI--- actually, we’re going to put a pin in that.” Tony said, looking weary as he pulled his hands through his hair. “Peter, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Peter picked at the fuzz on his pajama pants but nodded silently. 

“Peter if you are ever in distress. That means a nightmare, a bad day, _even stepping on a lego_ , I want to be able to help.” Tony said softly. “Peter you are never a burden. You are my son and I love you. Please don’t hide your pain because you think you’d be a bother.”

Peter never told anyone that he did that. Peter wondered if he should be surprised that Tony figured that out about him. He decided not to, after all, Tony was the embodiment of a helicopter dad. Peter nodded again, not trusting his voice to remain steady. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Tony asked softly. Peter nodded and Tony held out his arms. Peter stared at them for a second before hesitantly scooting over to him. Tony wrapped his in a tight embrace and Peter instantly relaxed into the hold. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Peter didn’t but his breath hitched and he found himself nodding. Peter swallowed back the tears and spoke, his voice shaking harder than his hands. “I just feel so s-stupid.” he said. “I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t still be so a-afraid all the time. What’s w-wrong with me?”

Tony’s grip on him tightened. “Peter there is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with you. Do you hear me? Nothing.” he said. “You went through so many horrible things and if I could trade places with you I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“But you can’t.” Peter said softly, instantly feeling guilty for saying so. (Even if it was the truth) Tony just let out a heavy sigh and lifted his hand to gently run through Peter’s curls. 

“I know.” he said sadly. “I know, baby, and I’m so sorry. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”

“Am I…” Peter’s breath hitched in the back of his throat and Peter found himself choking on his words. “Am I broken?”

(Tony felt like he’d just been stabbed through the heart at those small words and he tightened his grip on Peter further, as if his embrace could protect his son from further pain.)

“No. Never.” Tony replied instantly. “You are not broken. You’ve been hurt. It’s okay to be hurt, Peter. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks, all of that just means that your body is trying to cope. Sometimes you can’t cope on your own…”

Peter tensed. “I don’t need therapy,” he said sharply. 

“It might be helpful. Therapy really helped me deal with a lot of the stuff I went through. Maybe you should consider it---” Tony tried but Peter shook his head. 

“ _You just said I’m not broken_.” Peter said, pulling away from Tony’s embrace. “You said… you s-said it. Therapy means I am… It means that I’m giving up!”

“No it doesn’t Peter.” Tony said, gently holding Peter’s hands. “It takes a big man to admit they need help. There is nothing wrong with accepting help.”

“I’m a Superhero!” Peter cried. “Superheroes don’t get therapy!”

“And what am I?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. “Chopped liver?” Peter bit his lip and looked down. Tony sighed. “Peter, I won’t force you to get therapy. I’m just asking you to consider it.”

Peter had. He already decided he didn’t need it. Peter could deal with his problems on his own. He was almost an adult anyway! “I don’t need it.”

Tony just nodded silently. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?” he asked, changing the subject. 

Peter instantly felt the chill of the cold cell in his memories. He shook his head, his hands beginning to tremble. Tony, seeing Peter was on the edge of another panic attack, quickly leaned forward and and tugged Peter back into a gentle hug. “Can we...c-can we just watch a movie or something?” Peter asked, instantly regretting asking. 

_Obviously Tony wouldn’t want to do that! He needed sleep too, Peter! Be considerate for once---_

“Of course!” Tony said. Peter let out a gasp when he was suddenly moving. Tony had leaned down and picked Peter up, carrying him out into the living room. If Peter weren’t so emotionally exhausted he would have protested to be treated like such a child. 

But he was so Peter remained silent. 

Tony settled them comfortably on the couch as the TV began to play Lilo and Stitch. Peter relaxed against Tony, his heart slowly starting to beat normally once more. As they continued to watch Peter felt more and more comfortable. 

About halfway through the movie Tony started to snore. Peter muffled his giggle behind his hand at the sight of Tony’s head tilted back off of the couch and a small dribble of drool making its way down his cheek. 

Peter felt his own exhaustion start to creep in shortly after Tony fell asleep. Peter moved slightly so that his head was resting on Tony’s chest. Here, in Tony’s arms, Peter felt safe. Knowing that Tony would be there if he had another nightmare gave Peter the confidence he needed to go back to sleep. 

Peter bit his lip and looked up at the sleeping man next to him. “Goodnight Dad.” Peter whispered softly before getting comfortable and closing his eyes. 

Peter fell asleep to the comforting thrum of Tony’s heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! So cute! Also angst because I had to. NOTE: Therapy doesn't mean there is something wrong with you. As Tony said, therapy can help you and it takes a big person to admit they need help. Don't avoid it because you think it makes you weak. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Next update: Tuesday
> 
> Leave a kudos and a review they make my day! <3 :D


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned and Peter have a bro moment. Tony is stressed and Pepper decides they’re long overdue for a date night. What’s a teenage superhero to do when he’s home alone?

Peter awoke to the sound of hushed whispers. 

Peter blinked his eyes open to see Pepper cooing and talking to Tony who was apparently awake. It was then that Peter was reminded of last night and where he was. He had fallen asleep in the living room on top of Peter. 

“He’s so precious.” Pepper cooed. Clearly she didn’t know that Peter was awake. 

“He was so scared last night, Pep,” Tony said softly. Peter forced himself not to tense. “I wish I knew how to help him better.”

“It looks like you helped him just fine, Tony.” Pepper said simply. “He should probably wake up soon. He has school today.”

“But he’s so cute like this!” Tony whined. Peter blushed and decided that now was a good time to wake up. Peter yawned and stretched before opening his eyes wide and looking around. “Good morning sleepy-head.” Tony said with a soft grin. 

“Tony?” Peter asked, sitting up and feigning ignorance. “What’s going on?”

“You have school today, sweetie.” Pepper said, smiling fondly at him. “You might want to get ready. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Peter looked at the nearest clock and his eyes widened comically wide. “OH MY GOSH! I’M GOING TO BE LATE!” he shouted, jumping off of the couch and rushing into his bedroom to get changed. 

It was just as Peter was closing his door that he heard the hushed comment. 

“I’m getting really worried about him, Pep. I don’t know how to help him like this. I think Natasha may have been right. I think he might need professional help.”

Peter was too much of a coward to hear the rest. Peter shut the door, a bitter taste in his mouth.

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XX  
x

“Okay bro, spill.”

Peter looked up from his lunch to see Ned looming over him. His best friend had a concerned look on his face as he sat down next to Peter. Peter looked at him in confusion. “Spill what?” he asked. 

“Whatever’s been bothering you, obviously.” Ned said. Peter opened his mouth to ask him how he knew he was upset when Ned stopped him once more. “Before you ask, I knew you were upset because you’re my best friend. And my best friend happens to have a super-metabolism and you haven’t even touched your lunch. So. Spill.” 

Peter sighed. “I had a nightmare last night,” Peter said softly. Peter freezes, waiting for the inevitable pitying look. Instead Ned just urges him to continue. It’s moments like these that Peter is reminded why Ned is his best friend. “Tony helped me and then we watched Lilo and Stitch until I fell asleep.”

“Okay…” Ned said. “What’s the problem here?”

“Do you think… I mean… am I moving too fast?” Peter asked. Ned just furrowed his brows, clearly not understanding what Peter meant. Peter sighed but elaborated. “I mean, I called him Dad. I mean, he was _asleep_ so I don’t think he heard it but I still said it.”

Ned sighed. “Peter are you feeling guilty for accepting Tony as your Dad?” Peter said nothing. “Peter, you’ve known the Starks for almost a year now. You’ve been living with them for most of that time too, what with the co-parenting with May and everything. It’s normal to think of them as your family.”

Peter just glumly picked at his food. “But what about my other family?” he asked. “Do you think I’m betraying them?”

“Peter your feelings are yours.” Ned said. “If you think of the Starks as your family then that’s how you feel. If they truly love you, then they shouldn’t be upset at you having more family. They should be concerned with you being happy. You shouldn't censor yourself to make others feel better. It’ll just hurt everyone in the long run.” 

Peter just looked down at his food once more, Ned’s advice bouncing around in his head. 

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XX  
x

Tony looked at the screen in front of him with a clenched jaw. 

Fury was right. Hydra was openly taunting S.H.I.E.L.D. Where they’d been secretive before, it almost seemed like they didn’t care if they got caught anymore. Prisoners were escaping from their bases, soldiers killed in broad daylight leaving witnesses, spies were found almost daily. 

If Tony didn’t know that Hydra was a very smart evil operation, he’d just think that Hydra was losing its touch. But since Tony _did_ know that Hydra was a very smart and evil operation, he also knew that this was a play. 

A brilliant, evil, intelligent, _horrible_ play. 

Hydra was making the government lose faith in S.H.I.E.L.D every single time another plot was discovered. Each time another facet of Hydra gets outed, the government looks to S.H.I.E.L.D operatives to deal with the problem. 

But the number of operatives that aren’t currently deep undercover or indisposed was very small. For a superior spy organization, S.H.I.E.L.D sure was running low on manpower. After analyzing the information Fury had given to him, Hydra’s plan was obvious. 

They wanted Fury to be fired. 

No wonder he was being such a dick lately. The supervisors were breathing down his super-spy neck. If Fury was fired the next director would likely be someone that would benefit Hydra. Whoever it was wouldn’t necessarily be a spy but it was always possible. Especially because everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D was a spy. 

Tony just didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it. 

He supposed that he could get the Avengers to help out with it, but even with their help it would still be too many problems to fix. The simple solution would be to hire more people however S.H.I.E.L.D’s requirements were very hard to meet. Tony was pretty sure that everyone who could be hired was already employed there. 

“Fucking Hydra.” Tony cursed, a small headache beginning to form behind his eye. 

“Boss.” FRIDAY cut in, breaking the otherwise stifling silence of Tony’s office. “Mrs. Boss is requesting your presence in the kitchen.” 

Grateful for the distraction, Tony stood and briskly walked to the kitchen. Tony smiled at the sight of his very beautiful wife leaning against the table. “Hello love.” Tony said, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

“Hey Tones,” she said with a grin. “Just wanted to make sure you were still alive. You’ve been in your office for a while.”

“Yes, believe it or not I was actually working.” Tony said cheekily. Pepper let out a dramatic gasp. 

“Tony Stark? Working? Impossible!” she said with a laugh. 

“I know, I know!” Tony chuckled. “I remember now why I never do it. This is kicking my ass!”

“What are you working on?” she asked. “I don’t remember giving you any new projects from S.I.” Tony just sighed and sat down at the table. 

“Fury gave me an assignment,” Tony said glumly. “Looks like Hydra is still being an ass.” Pepper frowned, sitting down next to Tony. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Tony sighed again and looked at her with a frown. 

“I think they’re trying to get rid of the ‘ol pirate.” Tony admitted. “I’m not sure how to fix it yet but thinking is giving me a migraine.”

“Maybe you need to take a break.” Pepper suggested. “Clear your head for a while and look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow.” 

Now it was Tony’s turn to fake a surprised gasp. “Doth mine ear deceive me?” he cried. “Is Pepper Potts telling me to _blow off work_?”

Pepper chuckled. “I’m telling you to take me on a date.” she said. “Would that be agreeable, Mr. Stark?”

Tony grinned. 

“Nothing would give me more pleasure, Miss. Potts.” 

.

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XX  
x

“Are you going to be okay on your own, Peter?” Tony asked for what Peter was sure what the hundredth time. Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I’m sure, Tony.” Peter said. “Seriously. I’m almost sixteen. I think I can handle being home alone for a few hours.”

Tony just raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Cause I’m sure Steve wouldn't mind staying with you---”

“Oh my gosh just go on your date already!” Peter cried. “Seriously! I’m fine! I’ll probably just… I don’t know… eat junk food and watch a movie or something. Normal teenage things.” 

Tony looked at him for a few more seconds before nodding. “Okay. You’re right. Okay.” he said, and Peter wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “Pepper and I should be back around ten. Don’t stay up too late. You have both our numbers, right?”

“Of course I do.” Peter said, holding his phone up as if to prove his point. “You programmed them yourself.”

“And you won’t hesitate to call if you need anything will you?” Tony asked. Peter nodded. Tony eyed him for another second. “Seriously Peter. Anything. Don’t worry about bothering us or anything. You need something you call us. Got it?”

“Tony, seriously, relax. Your helicopter-ing again.” Peter said. Tony blinked at him before he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. 

“Sorry Pete,” he said. “I’m just worried, is all.” Peter instantly felt bad and let out a sigh. 

“It’s okay. I promise you I will call you if I need anything.” Peter said. “Go have fun on your date.”

Tony smiled and opened his arms for a hug. Peter hugged Tony quickly, his Old Spice cologne shocking his senses for a second before he pulled away. “Okay kiddo,” Tony said. “Be responsible.”

“Psh! Me? I’m always responsible.” Peter said. Tony just let out a derisive snort and started to walk away. Peter almost felt offended at Tony’s clear dismissal of that statement. 

“Good night Peter!” Tony called. “Don’t stay up too late!”

“Good night!” Peter yelled back. He then waited until he heard the door click shut. Peter then shuffled into the main hall to see that Tony and Pepper had in fact left for their date. 

A devious grin slowly spread across Peter’s face. 

He quickly grabbed his phone and dialed Ned’s number. He picked up after the second ring and before he had the chance to say a greeting, Peter said, “Hey Ned! You up for being my Guy In the Chair tonight?” 

“Absolutely!” Ned cried on the other end. “Oh this is going to be so much fun!”

Peter grinned and quickly changed into his suit. Just as he opened the window to his bedroom FRIDAY called out to him. “Are you sure this is a good idea, young sir?” she asked. “I’m not sure Boss would be happy with this.”

“Did he specifically say I couldn’t?” Peter asked. 

“No, young sir.”

“Then it’s fine.” Peter said. “I’ll be back before they even know I’m gone.” 

FRIDAY remained silent and Peter, now confident that FRIDAY wouldn’t rat him out, quickly jumped out of the window. He let out a whoop of joy as the wind rushed past his face. 

God, he missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh Boy. Yeesh. Thanks so much for reading!!! Next Update: Friday. Leave a kudos and a review!! <3 <3


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s night does not go the way he wanted it to. Meanwhile Tony has an incredible night with the woman he loves

“What do you have for me, Ned?” Peter asks as he perches on a rooftop. “Anything good?” 

“It’s a pretty tame night, Peter.” Ned says. “Nobody has called in anything suspicious.” 

“Why does no one commit any crimes anymore?” Peter groaned. Ned chuckled in his ear. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked. Peter just huffed. 

“Yeah.” he said. “I just wish I had something to do. I’ve been so bored lately!” Peter groaned and laid back against the roof. “I haven’t been out as Spider-Man in a while…” 

Peter looked up at the night sky. In New York it was almost impossible to see the stars from all the light pollution, but with Peter’s enhanced eyesight he could easily make out the speckled light in the sky. It was beautiful. 

“Hey Peter! I got something for you!” Ned said. Peter sat up, an excited grin replacing his indifferent expression. 

“Hit me.” Peter said. 

“A possible robbery on fifth.” Ned said. “Be careful, they might be armed.”

Peter just jumped off of the roof, letting out a yelp of excitement, and swung over the streets. Swinging through the night had always been a huge stress relief and Peter didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of doing this sooner. 

Peter arrived in front of the bank to see a group of people walking around in the bank. Peter silently enters, the group of bad guys not seeing him because he was on the ceiling. He watched as they struggled to break into the ATM. It wasn’t until they mentioned breaking and entering the vault that Peter decided to let his presence be known. 

“Hi, welcome to Capital One. How may I be of service to you today?” Peter asked. The taller man spun around at the voice. 

“You’re that bug dude!” he said. Peter frowned. 

“Why does everyone say that?” he asked. “I have a name dude. Spider-Man. Come on, it’s not that hard.” The man merely growled and picked up a pen and threw it at Peter. Peter dodged it easily but the shock of having a pen thrown at him almost stopped him. “Did you… Did you just throw a _pen_ at me?”

“Come down here so I can squash you.” he said. 

“Um, Peter? I think these guys might be dangerous…” Ned said through the comms. Peter would’ve answered him if he weren’t in the middle of a fight. Peter scanned the room.

There were four men, all wearing the standard stealing get up that consists of a ski mask, dark clothes and gloves. The only weapons that Peter could see was a crowbar in thug number three’s hands. 

Peter shot a web at his hand, sticking both his hand and the crowbar to the wall. Thug # 3 let out a growl of frustration when he found that he couldn’t tug his hand free. If Thug # 1 didn’t look murderous before… 

“Come down and fight me!” # 1 said, his hands clenched into fists. “You’re long overdue for a beating!” 

Peter hummed from his spot on the ceiling, shaking his head. “No thank you, Mr. Criminal.” he said. “I think I like where I am. Thanks for the offer though.” 

Peter’s spidey-sense urges him to move and he does so, watching with fascination as the spot he had just been at was crushed by a metal chair. Peter looked down to see Thug # 4 glaring at Peter. 

“I missed.” he said with a deep voice. Peter felt a chuckle rise up in his chest. 

“Thanks for the clarification,” he said. “I think my feelings would’ve been hurt if you were aiming for the roof instead of me.”

“They weren’t kidding. You really are one annoying little shit.” Thug # 2 growled. “Boss, can I kill him?”

“We have a job to do,” Thug # 1 hissed. “We don’t need any distractions. Get rid of him.”

“Peter…” Ned whispered in his ears. Peter felt slightly bad for Ned as this was the first time he’d ever heard Peter stop a crime. Peter was completely unfazed by the threat as he’d heard it so many times. Everyone he stopped wanted to kill him. 

“If I had a nickel for every time someone tried to kill me…” Peter said, hoping that he could calm Ned down discreetly. “I would be a very rich spider.” 

“Come down here!” Thug # 2 yelled. “Don’t make me come up there!”

Peter grinned. “As hilarious as it would be to watch you try and crawl on the ceiling, I do have other places to be. You know, crimes to stop, people to save. I’m afraid I’m going to have to end our time together.”

“Already?” Thug # 3 asked sarcastically from his place at the wall. 

“I know! So sad, really.” Peter said, flipping off of the ceiling and landing gracefully on the floor. He dodged as Thug # 2 threw a punch towards his face. Peter grunted, uppercutting the man so that he would fall unconscious. 

Thug # 4 ran at him, a growl escaping his mouth. What is it with criminals and growling? Do they think it makes them sound tough and scary? All it really does is make Peter think of them like angry dogs. 

Thug # 4 was a very tall man with a muscular stature. Peter kicked him in the shin but it did not deter him in the slightest. Peter let out a yelp when Thug # 4’s hand gripped his arm. (Why didn’t he dodge that? His spidey sense didn’t alert him to move---) Peter let out a shout as he was thrown across the room. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” Peter mumbled as he brushed himself off. Peter quickly jumped out of the way as Thug # 4 barreled towards him. Peter shot a web at him, sticking him to the floor. “Hah! Not so scary now, are you---”

_Hot, blinding pain_. 

Peter’s vision whited out for a second, the only sound was the buzzing in his ears. He let out a groan and his hand reached down to his leg, only for it to come back crimson. “What…” 

Did… 

Did he just get _shot_?!

Peter whipped his head around to see Thug # 1, the only one left, holding a handgun. Peter’s eyes widened and he could heard Ned’s frantic yelling in his ear. “Not so scary now, huh?” the thug parroted Peter’s earlier words. “You’ve been such a nuisance lately.”

“You… shot me.” Peter said, going into shock. 

How is that possible? How could Peter have been shot? Why didn’t his spidey-sense alert him to the danger? This has never happened before… 

“Peter! Peter! Peter you need to snap out of it and get out of there!” Ned screamed. “You’re going to go into shock and bleed out! Peter!” 

Peter shakily stood to his feet, his knees buckling under the pressure. He quickly shot his webs at the hole in his thigh, temporarily staunching the blood flow. It did nothing to stop the pain, though. Peter then looked up at the thug with grit teeth. 

Peter quickly shot his webs at the man, sticking him to the wall, no longer in the mood for banter. Already the blood loss was making Peter dizzy. He wasn’t too worried, though. He knew his healing factor would kick in soon. 

“See ya.” Peter said, saluting the thugs before leaving the bank quickly. 

“Peter? Peter are you okay? Oh my god, you got shot!” Ned cried. “What should I do?”

“Do you happen to have any needle and thread at your house?” Peter asked, wincing at the pain. It was very hard to swing with a shot wound, unsurprisingly. “Also tweezers. I think the bullet is still in me.”

Ned was silent for a few seconds before he choked out, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh my god I’m going to throw up.” Ned said. Peter winced sympathetically at the sound of Ned vomiting. 

“Just let it all out bud,” Peter said. “Cuz I need you to have an empty stomach when you stitch me up.”

Ned vomited louder.

.

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XX  
x

Tony had been nervous the entire time. 

It’s been a while since Peter was left on his own. Sure Tony might be a little overprotective, but could you blame him? After everything that’s happened, Tony thinks that he was being generous. If he were a weaker man he’d just lock Peter up and never let him out of his sight to keep him safe. 

But Tony knew better. 

But the date went perfectly. They had gone to Pepper’s favorite restaurant before going to see a movie. Tony had rented out the entire theater for some privacy. After that they went and got some ice cream. 

Not once during his date did he receive a call, text of notification from Peter. Tony didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. They were now on their way home and Tony was afraid that he’d come home to an empty tower.

Pepper could clearly see how anxious Tony was and she smiled at him. “Everything is fine Tones,” she said. “We’re almost home.”

Tony just nodded silently and held Pepper’s hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it. 

They arrived back at the tower a few minutes later and they entered a silent penthouse. The lights were off and it looked like Peter had already gone to bed, judging from the empty takeout boxes on the kitchen counter. 

Tony peeked into Peter’s room and felt his worry deflate at the sight of his son sleeping peacefully in bed. 

“Everything okay?” Pepper asked. Tony smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Everything’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh Oh. Wonder how that's gonna play out?
> 
> Next update: Tuesday
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Leave a kudos and a review!!!


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries to hide his injury from his family. It doesn’t really go very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Slight gore

Peter woke up to the overwhelming smell of copper. He scrunched his nose and slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light coming in from his open window. A raging headache almost distracted Peter from the burning sensation in his thigh. Almost. 

Peter slowly sat up, wincing when it pulled at his thigh and lifted the covers. Peter pressed his hand into his mouth to stifle the screech that left his lips at the sight. At some point the hastily done stitches in his thigh had come out, tearing open the bullet wound, and soaking Peter’s white sheets crimson. 

It was then that the burning agony hit him. Peter retched in his mouth, the pain dizzying. “What the fuck?” Peter mumbled, once the room stopped spinning. 

His healing factor should have kicked in---and though it wouldn’t have fully healed the wound, it would have at least shut it and stopped the bleeding---but instead a small dribble of blood leaked out of the wound in his thigh. 

Peter had no idea how much blood he had lost in the night, but judging from how soaked his sheets were, it wasn’t good. Peter needed to bandage his thigh and get rid of the damning sheet before Tony saw and flipped his shit. 

Peter whimpered as he scooted into a standing position. He was leaning heavily on his right leg, his left foot barely even touching the floor. Peter took one step forward, limping his way over to his dresser. The second the slightest pressure was put on his left leg, white hot agony hit him and Peter tumbled to the floor. 

Tears fell down Peter’s cheeks freely as he slowly pulled himself back up. Peter quickly grabbed the ace bandages from the bottom drawer of his dresser and gagged as he rewrapped his thigh. Peter was breathing through his teeth, his jaw clenched hard. “Fuuuuck.” he hissed. 

With his wound dressed and dying from blood loss seemed less likely, Peter crawled into his bathroom and fumbled around for some painkillers. Peter swallowed a handful of ibuprofen dry before forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Peter had a bullet wound in his thigh. His family was downstairs, oblivious to Peter’s problem as they should be. Peter’s next move was to get rid of the evidence. Peter winced when he saw the bloody trail he’d left from his bed to his dresser. 

Peter sucked in a deep breath, bracing himself for the pain, and stood. He knew that he needed to walk without a limp to get away without suspicion. Peter let out a yelp, his hand instantly flying to his mouth and he bit down hard to fight against the scream that bubbled up in the back of his throat. 

It took Peter almost forty-five minutes to fully clean everything up. He’d shoved his bloody pajamas, sheets and the rags he used to clean up the blood trail into his closet and buried it under a pile of dirty clothes. He then slowly got dressed and painstakingly made his way downstairs for breakfast. 

He was greeted with the Avengers staring at him. Peter forced himself to act tired (though that wasn’t really hard. He was lethargic from all the blood loss) and made his way to his seat. He forced himself to remain neutral, even though the pain of walking was almost debilitating. 

“Good morning sleepyhead!” Tony said with a smile. “Took you long enough! We were about to send a search party!”

Peter allowed a smile to spread on his face. “Sorry,” he said. “I stayed up pretty late last night.”

Tony frowned. “You were asleep by the time we got home,” he said. “That was only ten.”

Peter fought to remain calm. _Shit_. “Right,” Peter said naturally. “I just… I woke up and then I just couldn’t fall back asleep, you know?”

“Did you have a nightmare?” Tony asked, concern ebbing into his voice. Shoot. Peter was trying to throw any concern and suspicion off of him. The last thing he needed was Tony picking apart his fake story. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Peter mumbled, looking at his plate. The smiling pancakes seemed to stare up at him accusingly. Peter swallowed back bile. 

Pepper gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Okay hun,” she said. Peter nodded gratefully and began to eat. It tasted incredible but it felt like sand going down his throat. His head was pounding and Peter was seriously wondering if he should take a few more pills. “What are you doing after school today?” 

“I don’t know…” Peter said, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he forced them open. “Sorry Pepper...I’m still pretty sleepy.”

“That’s fine.” Pepper said with a wave of her hands. “If you want to hang out with your friend or stay later just shoot us a text, okay? Next week you’re going to be staying with May, so make sure you don’t forget to pack.”

Peter nodded and shoved another fork of food into his mouth, ending the conversation. 

.

.

.

.

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XX  
x

Tony watched Peter eat, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Peter was acting weird. Even with really bad nightmares, Tony had never seen him look so sleepy. He seemed to be falling asleep with a fork in his mouth. 

He was also pretty pale, his skin looking almost translucent under the bright fluorescent lights. Tony wanted to push and ask Peter what was really wrong, but he didn’t want to spook him. They’d been getting closer and Peter had even confided in him about a nightmare. He didn’t want to ruin that. 

(Tony tried not to be bitter about how Peter didn’t tell him about his nightmare.)

When breakfast was over, Tony stood and collected all of the dishes, placing them in the sink and pressing a kiss to Pepper’s cheek as he passed her. Peter was staring off into the distance, his hazel eyes blurred and unfocused. Tony frowned. 

“Peter?” he said. Peter didn’t respond. Tony snapped his fingers and Peter snapped his head back. 

“What?”

“You gotta get ready for school.” Tony said. “Happy’s waiting and you know how he is.”

That got a soft chuckle. Peter nodded and stood and for a brief second Tony could’ve sworn that pain flashed across his son’s face. But it was gone too quickly for Tony to tell. “I’ll see you later.” Peter said. Tony smiled and gave Peter a quick hug. 

“Have a good day at school, Pete.” he said. “Love you.” 

Peter nodded and walked out of the door and into the elevator. Tony dropped his smile once the door closed. 

Something was wrong with Peter. 

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XX  
x

When Peter got to school he was greeted with a terrified looking Ned. His eyes frantically looked Peter up and down and he gently dragged Peter into the library. 

“Dude!” he yelled in a hushed whisper. “You got shot?!”

“I know Ned, I was there.” Peter said, his eyes scrunched. His headache was really pounding. Ned seemed to notice Peter’s blight because he frowned. 

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” he asked. Peter shook his head. 

“It’s fine, Ned,” Peter said, wincing after he shook his head. He really should not have done that. “My healing factor should kick in soon.”

Ned raised an eyebrow. “You mean it hasn’t yet? I thought it was fast!”

“It is!” Peter said, attempting to reassure him. “It’s just been a little slow lately. It’s fine, Ned. Don’t worry about it.”

“And your leg? Did the stitches hold?” Ned asked, his skin turning slightly green at the horrific memory of stitching up his best friend. 

“No,” Peter said. “They came out in the night. Don’t worry I fixed it.”

“Dude!” Ned cried. “That’s really badass! But are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking really pale…” 

“I said I’m _fine_ Ned.” Peter snapped. Ned frowned and looked at him. Peter sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I just… I have a pretty bad headache. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ned said with a smile. “Come on, we’re going to be late for first.” 

Peter followed Ned and struggled to pay attention in his first period. His head was pounding at the lights were too bright. When the bell rang, Peter had to brace the desk from the white out of pain. 

The rest of his day followed in a similar fashion. Around fourth period, Peter’s vision started to go in and out of focus. Peter had to blink a few times to see. His head was spinning and it took Peter a few seconds to realize that there was no Earthquake. 

He jumped when he felt a hand hit his shoulder. “Are you okay, Peter?” his spanish teacher asked, looking at him in concern. 

“‘M fine.” Peter said, his words slurring together. Ned’s head snapped to his in shock, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Peter guessed he wasn’t looking to good. 

“Do you need to go see the nurse?” his teacher asked. Peter shook his head only to close his eyes when the world began to spin again. 

“Peter?”

Someone was talking but Peter didn’t know who. The world was tilting and his leg was on fire and his head was being torn apart. Peter really just wanted to sleep. 

“PETER!”

Peter embraced the blissful darkness, his eyes closing as he found sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Thanks so much for reading! Leave a kudos and a review please, they make me really happy!
> 
> Next update: Friday


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is freaking out and another big fight follows. These boys need some therapy.

Tony was relaxing in the living room when he got the alert. Pepper was reading a book, her feet kicked up into Tony’s lap, while Tony looked over some more files that Fury had sent over. Clint and Steve were training downstairs while Bruce and Natasha watched Orange is the New Black on the TV in a low volume. 

Suddenly FRIDAY was blaring an alarm. Tony jumped. “FRI? What’s going on?”

“My Baby Monitor protocol has been activated.” she said. Tony felt his heart drop to his shoes. “Happy has sent a distress signal. Would you like to contact him?”

“YES!” Tony cried. 

“Tony? Tony!” Happy’s frantic voice came over the intercom. By now an alert had been sent to Clint and Steve and they entered the living room, their eyes wide while they searched for a threat. “Oh thank god! No one knows what happened!”

“Happy? Speak to me! What’s going on?” Tony demanded. 

“It’s Peter.” he said, and Tony’s heart squeezed in his chest. “He just collapsed. He’s not waking up. I got him out of there before they called the ambulance. I’m on my way to the tower right now, and he’s not responding.”

Bruce instantly took over. “Happy? I need you to remain calm. Where is Peter?”

“He’s in the front seat, right next to me. I didn’t want to leave him in the back I---”

“It’s fine, Happy, you did good.” Bruce cut him off. “Listen to me. Is he breathing?”

Tony held his breath as he heard a scuffle on the other end before Happy said, “Yes.” Tony gripped Pepper’s hand like a vice. 

“Okay, good. How far are you from the tower?” Bruce asked. 

“Uh… five minutes? Three if I book it.” Happy said. 

“Okay, Happy? I’m going to need you to _book_ it.” Bruce said. Happy grunted his understanding and Bruce then swiftly made his way to the med bay, already prepping it for Peter. 

Tony was forcing himself to breathe, staving off the hyperventilation. His panic made his heart pound in his ear and the only thing grounding him was Pepper’s grip in his hand. Bruce saw the state of the terrified couple and took pity on them, walking over to them. 

“Peter is going to be fine,” he said. Tony wished he could believe him. “He said he was tired this morning. He might be exhausted. There’s all kinds of reasons as to why this might have happened.”

“All of those reasons happen over a long period of time,” Tony whispered, his grip tightening on Pepper’s hand. “Why didn’t he tell us if something was going on?” 

Bruce didn’t answer him. But Tony didn’t need him to. He already knew the answer. 

(No matter how close they got, Tony was still an outsider to his son.)

The tense silence was interrupted by the ding of the elevator. Tony snapped his head over to see Happy rushing in, an unconscious Peter in his arms. Tony swallowed, fear making his heart skip a beat. 

He looked so _small_. 

“Set him here.” Bruce commanded. Happy complied quickly, and Peter did not respond. “FRIDAY do a full body scan. Tag injuries.”

“Minor abrasion to left arm. Minor bruise on right arm. Entry wound on left thigh. Suspected cause: Bullet. Minor lacerations on left thigh. Suspected cause: stitches.” FRIDAY said and Tony felt his heart drop to his shoes. 

Bruce removed Peter’s pants, displaying Peter’s blood-soaked bandages. Tony gagged at the sight. “It’s infected.” Bruce muttered. “No bullet. But the damaged skin suggested that it was removed. It must have been pulled out with something. Tweezers? The stitches are terrible. They need to be removed.” Bruce continued to mumble under his breath while Tony forced himself to stay steady. 

His son was shot. 

Peter was _shot_ and no one knew about it. 

Instead Peter---his _fifteen_ year old son who has zero medical knowledge---dealt with it on his own. Tony swayed and Pepper gripped his shoulder, guiding him into a chair. “Tony…” she said. “Tony you need to breathe.”

“He… I…” Tony had no words. 

“I know.” Pepper said, her face grim. “But we need to stay calm.” 

“The most worrying thing is the blood loss.” Bruce said. Tony made a choked noise in the back of his throat. “That’s why he passed out. A minor infection has set in, but with his healing factor we don’t need to worry too much. I need to stitch up his wound and get him a transplant.” 

“Do you need my blood?” Tony asked, holding out his arm. Bruce looked pained. 

“It’s tricky.” he said. “I don’t know what’ll happen if I give him your blood. The mutation changed his blood and I don’t want to risk him rejecting it and getting sick. I’m going to stitch him up first and see how quickly his blood is replenished. The transplant is a last resort.”

Tony nodded, forcing himself to look away as Bruce threaded a needle. “Tony, I think you should leave.” Natasha said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, you don’t need to see this. You too, Pepper.” 

Tony shakily stood to his feet. He didn’t want to leave Peter, not at all. But he knew that if he stayed he was very likely to pass out and the last thing he wanted to do was take attention away from Peter. 

Tony found himself walking into Peter’s room, his heart in his gut. Pepper followed him, tears springing up in her eyes at the sight of their son’s room. Tony grit his teeth, not wanting to lose his strength. 

The room smelled of blood and it made Tony gag. It didn’t take long to find the cause. Shoved in the back of Peter’s closet was blood soaked sheets and clothes. Pepper let out a sob and Tony held her tighter. 

“Why didn’t he come to us?” she wept. 

Tony bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. 

The scent was barely distinguishable from his son’s blood permeating the air. 

.

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.

.

.

XX  
x

Peter knows he’s in trouble the second his eyes open. 

The last thing he remembered was second period and he knew for a fact that his second period was _not_ the med bay at the tower. He frowned, looking around in confusion. 

“Welcome back.” Peter looked up to see Bruce staring at him with a frown. 

“Dr. Banner?” Peter asked. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” came a dry voice. Peter flinched when he saw the furious face of Tony standing in the doorway. Behind him was Pepper, a concerned yet disappointed look on her face. “Hey Pete. Glad to see you awake. We washed your sheets, hope you don’t mind. You know how blood stains.”

Oh. Right. 

Peter was shot. 

“I can explain---”

“Well I sure hope so!” Tony snapped. “What the hell Peter? A bullet wound?! And you stitched it up yourself?!”

“I didn’t stitch it up,” Peter said, looking at the bed. “Ned did.”

“Ned?! Why the hell was Ned---” Tony cut himself off as realization slid onto his face. Somehow Tony looked even angrier. Peter didn’t know how that was possible. “You went out as Spider-Man? Didn’t you?” Tony took Peter’s silence as a yes. “ _Sonofabitch_! Peter how could you be so stupid?!”

“Spider-Man isn’t stupid!” Peter hissed. “Spider-Man saves lives! Lives, Tony! How is that stupid?!”

“It’s stupid when you go out without telling anyone!” Tony cried. “It’s stupid when you get injured at you keep it to yourself!”

“I had it under control!” Peter snapped. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah! Passing out from blood loss is totally under control.” 

“That’s not fair!” Peter cried.

“ _None of this is fair, Peter_!” Tony screamed. Peter flinched back in shock. Tony had never screamed at him before. “You think watching you get hurt is fair? Or watching you all but destroy yourself? That pride is going to kill you one day, Peter! Why can’t you just ask for help for once?!”

“I don’t need anyone’s help!” Peter snarled. “I’m almost fifteen. I can take care of myself!”

“Really? Cause from what I saw, you’re not doing so great!” Tony snapped, his arms crossed over his chest. “What is wrong with you?!”

Peter bit his lip, the anger starting to ebb away. Peter felt an awful feeling bubble up in his chest. “Me?” he cried. “What’s wrong with you?! Normal parents aren’t this obsessed!”

“Well we aren’t exactly normal, are we Peter?” Tony hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t you dare turn this on us, Peter. We are doing the best we can.”

“Well you’re not doing enough!” Peter snapped. 

“What do you want from us Peter?” Tony demanded. “We want to help you but you won’t let us! How are we supposed to be better if you don’t let us in?!”

“I don’t need to let you in!” Peter screamed, tears springing into his eyes. “I don’t need to! I don’t!”

“Why do you keep pushing us away, Peter?!” Tony screamed.

“ _BECAUSE I CAN_!” Peter sobs. Tony freezes. “Because I need to know that that’s something I _can_ do! Because I can’t control _anything_! My life is falling apart and I just need to be in control!” 

The room is silent, save for Peter’s choked sobs. Tony frowns, the anger melting away. He walked over to Peter’s shaking from and pulled him in for a hug. Peter melted against Tony’s chest and cried harder. “We want to help you Peter,” he whispers. “But this isn’t the way to do it.”

By now the rest of the team had left, gifting the family with a small amount of privacy. Pepper sat at the other side of Peter, her hands stroking Peter’s curls comfortingly. Peter wept. 

“I don’t know what to do.” he sobbed. “Everything is falling apart. I can’t… I can’t…” 

“I know, Pete.” Tony cooed. “I know. Everything is so different now. I get it.”

“I can’t sleep anymore,” Peter admitted, his tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “I just see him. I’m so tired. I have no control. My life is falling apart.” 

“Peter we want to help you.” Pepper said. “But we don’t know how. Please, you need to trust us. You need to trust us to protect you.”

Peter nodded silently against Tony’s chest. Tony pressed a kiss to the crown of Peter’s head. “Pete,” he said. Peter hummed in response. “Have you thought about therapy?”

Peter froze. “I don’t need---”

“Peter.” Tony said firmly. Peter looked up at him. “Needing therapy doesn’t make you weak. Admitting you need help is the first step in getting better. In getting control.”

“I’m scared.” Peter admitted. The small voice sent a dagger through Tony’s chest and left him floundering for a second. “What if… What if I can’t be fixed?” 

“Oh Peter,” Tony whispered. “You were never broken.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Sorry about the late update, I was a little busy in the afternoon. Leave a kudos and a review if you liked it! 
> 
> Next update: Tuesday


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes to see May before his first therapist appointment

Peter sat glumly at the table, mindlessly pushing his eggs back and forth on his plate while he rested his head on his hand. After the shit storm that was last night, it had been collectively agreed upon that Peter would start therapy. Tony had scheduled him an appointment with a therapist who’d been sworn to secrecy. 

His appointment with Dr. Stacy was scheduled for this afternoon and Peter’s anxiety was slowly suffocating him. Maybe he could fake sick? He could tell Tony he was feeling ill and maybe he’d take pity on him and let him stay home. 

Tony walked into the kitchen, ruffling Peter’s hair as he passed him and poured himself another cup of coffee. Tony peered at Peter over the rim of his mug with a raised eyebrow. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food?” he asked. 

Peter shrugged silently, lifting his fork and placing it in his mouth, refusing to acknowledge the egg that had dropped off of his fork and onto the floor. Tony snorted. 

“It usually helps if the food is on the _fork_ not the floor.” he said, sliding into a chair. “What’s going on, Pete? A penny for your thoughts?”

Peter shrugged again, not looking up from his plate. “I’m nervous.” he said. 

“About your session?” Tony asked. “Peter, you don’t need to be afraid. I’ve heard Dr. Stacy is incredibly nice.” 

“Am I… is anyone going to be in there with me?” Peter asked. Tony frowned. 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted that,” he admitted. “Pete, sometimes the things you talk about in therapy are really personal. I didn’t want to intrude.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Peter said, looking back down at his plate. If it was normal for people to go to therapy alone, then that’s what Peter would do. He already felt like there was something wrong with him for even needing therapy (he doesn’t need it. Tony is forcing him to go) so if he needed to suck it up and go to a therapist by himself to be cured, then that’s what he’d do. He didn’t want Tony to come anyway. (He did. He really did. He didn’t want to do this by himself, Tony please---)

“Do you want someone to go with you?” Tony asked. 

“No, I’m good.” 

(Yes.)

“Okay,” Tony said. “Well in that case, you better get your butt upstairs and get ready.” 

Peter looked at Tony in confusion, a piece of egg falling out of his mouth when he said, “Huh?” Tony laughed. 

“I have a meeting and Pepper’s across town at a board meeting which means no one is home to watch the Spider-Baby. You’re going to May’s. She’s going to take you to your appointment.” Tony said. Peter scowled. 

“I’m fifteen. I don’t need a babysitter.” he said, crossing his arms. Tony raised an eyebrow and dramatically drew his eyes to stare at Peter’s bandaged thigh. Peter scoffed. “That was one time.”

“Right,” Tony rolled his eyes. “One time too many. Besides, don’t you want to see your aunt? You were supposed to spend the week with her but because of your little accident you were stuck with us for an extra day.”

Peter frowned and looked at his hands, his face heating slightly. “I like spending time with you too.” he mumbled. 

Tony smiled wide. “Awww, I love you too Petey!” he cried, throwing himself on top of Peter and hugged him tight, obnoxiously rubbing his face up and down Peter’s cheek. “Aww my little cuddle-bug---”

“Ack! Gross! Get off me!” Peter cried, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. He shoved his way out of Tony’s arms and forced a scowl on his face. “You’re so annoying.” Peter said before he let out a huff and left the kitchen. 

“I love you too!” Tony called from behind him. Peter just rolled his eyes and walked into his bedroom. 

He was assaulted with the heavy scent of cleaners and felt a pang of guilt hit his chest. Someone had cleaned up his room and the tangy scent of blood was gone. Dr. Banner had stitched up his thigh and wrapped it with bandages and gave him some medicine for the pain but because of his healing factor (that had finally kicked in) his pain was almost gone. 

Peter didn’t know why it took almost a full day for his leg to start healing, but once it started, it was healing at it’s normal rate. Or rather, the normal rate for Peter. Dr. Banner had mentioned that Peter’s late healing factor was odd and that he was going to run some more tests on his blood. 

Peter quickly threw his overnight clothes into his bag and set in on his bed. There wasn’t much he needed to pack since his belongings had slowly been divided from the tower to his apartment and everything he needed was already back there. 

The wonders of co-parenting. 

Peter wondered if this was what children of divorcees went through. Peter was fortunate enough that his parents and May lived close enough together that Peter could stay in the same school. Some kids didn’t have that and were forced to go between two schools and stay with their parents longer at a time. Peter couldn’t even imagine not seeing May for three months at a time. (Or his parents) 

“Young sir? Boss has asked me to inform you to ‘get your spidery butt downstairs’.” FRIDAY said. Peter chuckled. 

“I’m on my way.” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“Peter. Benjamin-Edward. Stark. Parker.” 

Peter winced the second he entered the apartment. He slowly turned around to see May staring at him with a disapproving glare. Shit. She used all of his names. Peter whipped his head to stare at Tony pleadingly. Tony just laughed and waved goodbye before quickly walking down to his car. Coward. 

“Hey Aunt May…” Peter said softly, offering a sheepish wave. Aunt May’s glare deepened. 

“Don’t you dare ‘Hey Aunt May’ me, Peter!” she snapped. “You got shot and didn’t tell anyone?! What were you thinking?!”

Peter bit his lip. He’d already had this conversation but he knew better than to tell May that. He also knew that in exactly five seconds May was going to crack and break down, hugging him tighter than she should and cry. 

Three… 

Two… 

May threw her arms around Peter, dragging him close to her as she cried onto his shoulder. “I was...s-so worried!” she wailed. Peter felt his guilt come back tenfold and he wrapped his arms around her, gently leading her to the couch. “Pepper calls and says… says you’re… in surgery from a _bullet_ and I…” 

“I’m sorry, May.” Peter mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”

“We had an agreement!” May said harshly. “You get to be Spider-Man as long as you follow the rules!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean---”

“And instead of following the rules you break every single one of them!” May cries. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was?!”

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Peter sighed. “I’m sorry May.”

May’s grip tightened for a second before she pulled away, a watery smile on her face. She gently cupped Peter’s cheek and smiled at him. “I always worry, Peter.” she said. “You are my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Peter hugged her once more, a strange feeling resting at the pit of his stomach. He’d never felt this before. It made him uncomfortable and he blinked at the stinging in his eyes. “I love you Aunt May.” he chooses to say, ignoring the feeling for now. 

.

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XX  
x

Peter fidgeted in the plush blue chair. The room was bright from the open windows and the sound of gentle rain relaxed Peter slightly, but not by a lot. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and in front of him sat his therapist, Dr. Stacy. 

Dr. Stacy is a tall blonde woman, a gentle smile resting on her face that brings out the laugh lines on her face. “Hello Peter.” she says. Peter nods. “I understand this is your first time with therapy?” Peter nodded again. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Peter sunk in his chair. The way she says it makes it sound like he’s in detention. “Tony says I’m having trouble adjusting.”

“Tony says?” she asks. Peter frowns. “Do you think you’re having trouble adjusting?”

“I… I don’t know.” Peter says, picking at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t think that I am. But maybe?”

“Can you give me an example of when you think you’re having trouble?” she asks. 

“Do you… do you know about me?” Peter asked, feeling slightly awkward asking such a question. “I mean do you know what happened to me?”

Dr. Stacy nods. “I’ve been briefed.” she said. “But I want you to tell me everything that you can when you’re ready.”

Peter bit his lip at the cliche answer. If therapy was exactly like it was in the movies, couldn’t Peter just binge Dr. Phil and call it good? “Er… I guess I have trouble sleeping?” he said for lack of a better answer. 

“Do you want to elaborate?” Dr. Stacy asked kindly. It didn’t feel like he had to, but Peter had promised May he would at least _try_. 

“I have nightmares a lot.” Peter said. “Like, almost every night. I… I don’t sleep much anymore.” 

“What do you do after you have a nightmare?” she asks him, Peter shrugs. 

“I just stay up. Sometimes I watch TV.” Peter says. “I can’t go back to sleep after them.”

“The next time you have a nightmare, as silly as it sounds, try closing your eyes, telling yourself that it’s not true and you’re safe, and try to fall back asleep.” Dr. Stacy says. Peter frowns. 

“How would that work?” he asks. 

“Sometimes we can trick our minds into believing what we tell it.” Dr. Stacy tells him with a mischievous smile. “If our nightmares can trick our minds into thinking we aren’t safe, perhaps our logic can trick your mind into thinking it is.”

Peter just stares at her, not believing a word she said. It sounded crazy. Completely unrealistic. Peter looked back at the couch once more, the next few minutes passing in comfortable silence. 

“What do you think causes the nightmares?” she asks suddenly, breaking the silence. Peter blinks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Causes? It’s a dream. It just happens.” Peter says, not following what she meant. Dr. Stacy gave Peter a gentle smile and shook her head. 

“Most people don’t know it, but dreams are actually caused by several things. Sometimes people who suffer from PTSD find that certain events, smells, places, even sounds can trigger nightmares that last for weeks,” she said. Peter froze at the word she used. PTSD. Is that what he had? “Have you noticed your nightmares are particularly bad after something happens?”

Peter frowned. “No,” he said softly. “I don’t know. They just happen. All the time. I don’t know what triggered it.”

“I’ve been told that you’ve had flashes of things that happened to you your entire life, right?” Dr. Stacy asked. Peter nodded. “When did you start having nightmares about them?”

“After I found who I am.” Peter said. “The first full memory I had was after I had a really bad fight with Pepper and Tony.” 

Dr. Stacy nodded. “Now think back to the days where your nightmares were really bad. Can you pick out a trend?”

Peter thought about it before his eyes widened and he nodded. “I get into a fight with someone I care about. Or someone important to me is leaving.” 

“That is what we call a trigger.” Dr. Stacy said. “Peter you’ve been hurt so many times in your life and they all center around your family. Every time you get into a fight with your family how do you feel?” 

“Afraid.” Peter answered, suddenly feeling ashamed. He looked down at the couch. 

“Are you afraid of them or are you afraid of losing them?” Dr. Stacy asked. Peter bit his lip. The answer was obvious. “Peter it’s perfectly normal to be afraid and it’s perfectly normal to suffer from nightmares after a traumatic event. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Why does it feel like there is?” Peter asked her. She just smiled. 

“Sometimes we hold ourselves to impossible standards,” she said. “Sometimes what we really need to do is take a step back and look at the rest of the world.”

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XX  
x

_He had her by the throat, blood dripping down her face from an unseen wound at the top of her head. His face was marred by a sadistic grin and Peter’s stomach churned at the manic glee in his unhinged eyes._

_“Please,” Peter heard himself whisper. “Please don’t hurt her.”_

_The Doctor chuckled, tilting her head back, baring her throat for Peter to see. “Hurt her?” he asked, tauntingly dragging the knife back and forth on the vulnerable skin of her neck. Peter whimpered when a tiny speckle of blood leaked out at the shallow cut. “Oh 2176, why would I want to hurt her?”_

_“Please!”_

_“You have it all wrong, Peter.” he said. “I don’t want to hurt her. I want to kill her.”_

_“No!” Peter cried, his hands reaching forward to grab her but his hands hit an invisible shield and Peter realized that a slate of glass separates him from the Doctor and his hostage. Peter screamed and pounded against the glass but he couldn’t reach her. Tears slid down his face as he watched helplessly._

_“And it’s all your fault Peter. I’m doing this because of you.”_

_And then he snapped Aunt May’s neck._

Peter screamed himself awake before he quickly brought his hand to his mouth, stifling the noise. Peter heaved, hysteria choking him as he fought for breath. He clawed at his arms before he was able to breathe once more. Tears stained his arms as he rocked back and forth. 

Once he had finally managed to calm his heart rate, Peter was feeling gross and sticky. His shirt was plastered to his chest from the sweat and his face felt blotchy as the tears dried crusty. Peter took in a shuddering breath, forcing himself to lay back down. 

“It’s not real.” he told himself, feeling slightly stupid for doing this. He closed his eyes, relaxing into his bed. “It’s not real. It was just a dream. Aunt May is safe and he’s dead. I’m safe.”

Peter repeated the mantra over and over, not noticing himself start to slowly sink back into sleep. 

Peter slept soundly through the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a kudos and a review!
> 
> Next update: Friday


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce talks to Peter about his lab results while the Avengers have a meeting to discuss Hydra.

Peter woke up feeling refreshed. Peter smiled to himself when he realized that Dr. Stacy’s advice had actually worked. Peter snuggled deeper into his bed, the comforting sound of the train going past his window lulling him back to sleep. 

For exactly three minutes. 

“Peter! Wake up! I made breakfast!” May called. With those words Peter shot up, the sleep full haze disappearing. He speed walked into the kitchen, sticking his head in to make sure May wasn’t in danger of burning the house down. 

“Good morning May,” Peter smiled, happy to see that May was actually cooking correctly. “Smells good in here!”

May grinned. “I know right! I should be a chef!”

“Maybe take it one day at a time,” Peter said cheekily. May gasped in mock offense before shooing him out of the kitchen. 

“Go! Get ready! Come back in fifteen minutes.” she said. Peter nodded and turned to walk back down the hall, only stopping when May called his name. He turned around to see her poking her head out of the kitchen with a grin. “And Peter? Take a shower.” 

Peter chuckled to himself as he got ready for the day. 

Peter was not looking forward to school. The second he got there Ned was at his side instantly, demanding to know if he was okay. “Ned, I’m fine, I promise.” Peter said, waving off his concerns. Ned refused to accept that. 

“You just _passed_ out!” Ned cried. “And everyone was freaking out and there was blood… How is _any_ of that okay?!”

“It was all taken care of,” Peter assured him. “Bruce fixed up my thigh and helped me with blood. Ned, I swear everything is okay now.”

Ned frowned. “Never do that again!” he hissed, pressing his finger into Peter’s chest. Peter winced. “I was terrified! You are my best friend, Peter! I can’t keep watching you almost die!” 

Peter sighed and pulled Ned in for a tight bro hug. Ned just clutched Peter, and Peter frowned when he felt Ned trembling against him. “Ned?” Peter asked. “Are you okay?” Ned shook his head against Peter’s head and Peter’s frown deepened. “What’s wrong?”

“That was really scary.” Ned admitted. “I thought you were going to die and it would be all my fault.”

“What? Ned it wasn’t your fault---”

“I was the one who stitched you up,” Ned argued. “And I didn’t tell anyone you were shot! That’s crazy!”

“I asked you not to.” Peter said lamely. Ned shook his head. 

“As your best friend I should know not to listen to your stupid ideas when you’re hurt.” Ned said. Peter laughed. “Next time something like that happens, I’m going to tell your dad.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, knowing that it would be impossible to change Ned’s mind. 

The rest of the day was pretty normal. Thanks to the incredible pain pills that Bruce had prescribed him, Peter was able to focus and make up everything that he had missed from yesterday. He was even able to pass off his collapsing as a passing sickness. 

When the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Peter was happy to be able to get back to the apartment. Peter nodded at Happy who was sitting conspicuous by his car. Happy nodded as Peter got onto his school bus. 

Peter frowned when he felt his phone buzz. “Hello?” he asked, pulling it out of his pocket. The caller ID read, Dr. Banner.

“Peter?” Bruce said. “Hey, Peter do you think you have a minute?” 

“Er, yeah?” Peter said, walking to the subway. “What’s up?”

“I was going over your blood work and I ran some tests,” Bruce said. Peter scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. “I noticed something strange.” 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked. 

“Your cells aren’t repairing as fast as they used to.” Bruce said. “For some reason your healing factor is slowing down at a cellular level.” 

“Is that bad? That sounds bad.” Peter said, a hint of concern ebbing into his voice. 

“I’m not sure yet.” Bruce said. “I need to keep an eye on it. Whenever you have the chance, do you think I could get another blood sample?”

“Sure.” Peter agreed. “I think I’ll be in the tower this weekend? That good?”

“That should do just fine.” Bruce says, and he lets out a sigh that sends Peter’s anxiety skyrocketing. 

“Um… Bruce? Is something… wrong?” Peter asks, his hand clenching to a fist at his side. 

Bruce was silent for a few minutes, Peter’s heart rate spiking as he waited for an answer. “I don’t know.” Bruce said finally. “Peter I need to go, Fury’s calling a meeting. Just, make sure to stop by the med bay during your visit. I need a blood sample soon.” 

There was a click on the other end signalling the end of the conversation. Peter stared at his phone for a second, his eyebrows pulled forward in confusion. 

“Well shit.” he said finally. “That was really ominous.”

.

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XX  
x

“What’s going on, Fury?” Steve asked. He was sitting tensely in his chair, a look of concern resting on his usually stoic face. The rest of the Avengers sat around the oval table in similar states. 

“Stark. You didn’t tell them?” Fury asked. Tony raised his hands in a defensive motion. 

“You never told me I was supposed to!” Tony said. Fury just growled and looked back at the rest of the Avengers.

“Hydra is on the move.” Fury said, causing everyone to stiffen and listen harder. (Tony just rolled his eyes and leaned back further in his chair. He’d already heard this spiel before.) “Lately they’ve been really obvious with their plans, causing them to get discovered very quickly.”

“They’re trying to make us look incompetent.” Natasha said with a frown. “They want you gone, don’t they?”

“Hydra has always wanted me gone.” Fury scoffed. “They’re trying to get revenge.”

“Revenge?” Clint asked. “Revenge for what?”

Fury rounded on Tony. Tony scoffed. “Why don’t you ask him?” he said pointedly. Clint raised an eyebrow. 

“They’re pissed that I killed Zemo.” Tony shrugged. Saying that man’s name made a full body shiver run down his spine. Pure hatred coursed through his veins at the thought of the man who had taken everything from him. 

“Zemo?” Steve asked. “Why?”

“Who knows.” Tony shrugged. “All we know is that now Hydra is making all sorts of claims. Sightings of possible activity are popping up faster than we can track them.” 

“Have you tried sending out more operatives?” Steve asked. 

“Have I tried sending out---” Fury cut himself off, taking in a deep calming breath. “No, Rogers, I haven’t. I’ve sent out all of the operatives I have.”

“Okay. How far short are you?” Steve asked. “Maybe we could help out.”

“Not that I don’t have faith in Earth’s Greatest Defenders,” Fury sneered. “But I don’t think that you’ll be much help here. There’s too much even for you.” 

“Yeah, I have to agree with Jack Sparrow over here,” Tony said. Fury growled. “I have a son at home that I need to take care of. I can’t just fly out and fight a bunch of Nazis.”

“I have kids too.” Clint pointed out. “I don’t want to put them in any more danger by spreading myself to thin trying to beat an impossible force.”

“Impossible force? It’s Hydra! They’re practically all we fight!” Steve cried. 

“We fight them when we have the means and force to beat them,” Tony argued. “Do you see the means or the force anywhere? We’re benched, Spangles. Nothing we can do.”

“Actually there is something you can do.” Fury said. 

“Thank you--- Wait, what?” Tony asked, snapping his head over to where Fury stood. “Repeat?” 

“There’s something that the Avengers can do to help.” Fury said. “Information wise.”

“I already tried researching it,” Tony said. “As far as I could find, there wasn’t really any reason for Hydra to get all worked up over one doctor. I think they’re using him as an excuse to get rid of you.”

“Yeah, why do they care so much?” Clint asked. “He was just some Doctor. They’re acting like we killed Red Skull.”

Steve coughed and looked down. Clint chuckled. Fury gave them a deadpan stare and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“He may have been more valuable than we know.” he said. “We don’t have enough information yet. We need help.”

“And what do you propose we do?” Natasha asked. 

Fury looked up at her. “I propose that we get help,” he said. “We need more information. We need to know more about Zemo and who he was to the organization.”

“And who do you think is going to help us?” Tony scoffed. 

“Bucky Barnes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A wild plot has been spotted! Get ready to ruuuummmmble! Thanks so much for reading! Leave a kudos and a reivew they really make my day!
> 
> Next update: Tuesday


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers make plans for Wakanda. Peter wants to go with and when he can't he has a mother-son bonding time.

“Barnes?” Tony asked, a bitter feeling rising in his chest. Despite everything that had gone down and how much he had helped his son, Barnes had still killed his parents. Tony had understood that it wasn’t actually Barnes who had killed his mom, but the thought that he would have to see the same face that his mother had seen right before she died every day left an ugly taste in his mouth. 

“Bucky?” Steve asked, a bright and disgustingly _loving_ look coming into his eyes. Oh. Right. There was _that_ too. Steve---one of his best friends---was also in love with the man. God, this was just such a mess, wasn’t it?

“Yes.” Fury nodded. “I’ve been assured by Princess Shuri that Barnes is now completely free of conditioning. He is safe to be around and he has the information we need.”

“Wait, you want us to go get him?” Tony asked. Fury gave him a look that Tony didn’t even want to try and decipher. 

“Yes.” he said again, raising an eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?” he asked.

Tony wants to shrink under the sudden burning gaze of Steve. And Tony knows Steve and he knows that Steve would never fault him for being slightly cautious (if anything, he’d feel guilty and try to leave the tower with Bucky to make Tony more comfortable. Which was the last thing Tony wanted) so he doesn’t know why he feels guilty. 

“Nope.” Tony says, choosing a careful mask to hide the fact that there might very well be a problem. “No problem. Just clarifying.” 

Fury stared at him for another second before nodding. “Well then I suppose the Avengers are going to Wakanda.” 

Tony bit his lip. 

“I guess we are.”

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XX  
x

The plan to actually go to Wakanda was not as cut and dry as the idea was. First Tony needed to get permission to fly there from T’Challa---which wasn’t difficult because he and Tony are really close friends, but Tony felt like he should say it for argument’s sake---then Tony needed to get permission from his _wife_ because he knew she’d have an opinion about him leaving. Then of course there was the whole smuggling a wanted criminal into the states. 

See? Easy.

Tony winced as he knocked on the door to Pepper’s office. Pepper’s warm voice called him and despite himself, Tony felt a smile spread across his face leisurely. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Stark.” Pepper said playfully, placing a stack of paperwork onto her desk. Tony grinned. 

“That’s me.” he said. “How’s your day going, sweetheart?” 

“Pretty good.” Pepper said with a smile. “Had a boring meeting that I went to---”

“You are really good about that.”

“---had lunch with Happy---”

“That man better watch out. I have a metal suit and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“---and then my husband decided to visit me to give me bad news.” Pepper finished. Tony’s grin froze on his face. 

“Pssh… wha--- No. No bad news. Where did you hear that?” Tony asked, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. Pepper just raised an eyebrow. Tony deflated. “How did you know?” he asked. 

Pepper laughed. “Tony I married you. I know you.” she said. “Now. What’s up?”

Tony sighed, reluctantly sitting in the comfy chairs in front of Pepper’s desk. He looked up at her, his face contorted in a scowl as he tried to figure out the best way to ask for permission to fly off to a country on the other side of the world for the next few days to smuggle his parents murderer past the border. 

“So Fury gave us some bad news.” he decided to start off with. Smart plan. Blame it on Fury. “Looks like we need some help on the Hydra case.”

“Which case?”

“The erm… well, all of them?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, urging Tony to continue silently. Tony sighed. “Fury wants us to go to Wakanda and bring Barnes back here.”

Pepper’s eyes widened. “He wants you to _what_?”

“Yeah.” Tony winced. “That’s the plan.”

“And is he going to be staying here?” Pepper asked.

“Yeah. Steve wants to be close to him and Fury thinks the tower is the only stable place that can hold him---”

“No, I’m not talking about Barnes.” Pepper cut him off. “Barnes staying here was a given. I’m talking about Peter.”

Tony looked at her in confusion. “Peter?”

“Yes, our son. Peter.” Pepper said, rolling her eyes when she realized that Tony had no clue what she was talking about. “Honey, Peter is going to want to go with you.”

“Well he’s not coming.” Tony said firmly. “There is no way---”

“Where am I not going?” a voice asked from behind him. Tony let out a very manly screech as he flipped his head around to see Peter standing in the doorway of Pepper’s office looking very confused. 

“Nowhere!” Tony cried. “See? Works. You’re not going nowhere.” 

“Was I supposed to go somewhere?”

“Nowhere.”

“What about anywhere?”

“What? No. You’re not going anywhere. You going nowhere.”

“But what if I want to nowhere and I have to go to anywhere instead?”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense. I just told you where you’re going and that’s nowhere.”

“And how far away is that from here?”

“Literally no distance.”

“Wait is nowhere here?”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean I went to nowhere?”

“What?”

“You said I was not going nowhere. That means I went somewhere. I’m sorry Dad, I didn't mean to break your rules---”

“Peter stop trying to give your father an aneurysm.” Pepper said, stifling a smile at the banter between the duo. By now Tony was staring at Peter with a scrunched up expression and she knew that he was trying to figure out what the _hell_ just happened. 

“But it’s _fuuuun_.” Peter whined, collapsing into the seat next to Tony’s. He gave him a shit-eating-grin. Tony just glared. 

“You little shit.” he said. “How dare you?”

Peter just grinned. “You’re welcome.” he said. “So. Where am I not supposed to go?”

“Wakanda.”

Peter scrunched up in his face in distaste. “Why would I want to go there?” he asked. Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Aside from the fact that it is the most technologically advanced country in the world?” he asked. Peter’s eyebrow raised. “We’re going to get somebody.”

“Who?”

Tony looked at Pepper, an obvious ‘ _help me_ ’ expression on his face. Pepper just shrugged and gestured and Tony had to bite back a scoff. “Um… somebody.” Tony settled on. Peter grinned. 

“Is it somebody in nowhere or it is nobody in somewhere?” he asked. 

“It’s anybody in everywhere---”

“Barnes.” Pepper cut in, refusing to let another word play battle happen in front of her lest her brain explode. Peter looked at her with wide eyes. “They’re going to get Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re going to get Wolf?!” Peter cried, a smile taking over his face. Tony winced because this was exactly what he _didn’t_ want to happen. “Oh my gosh this is awesome! When do we leave?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Tony said. “What part of you’re not going anywhere did you not get?”

Peter looked at him, his eyes bright with betrayal. “What are you talking about?!” he demanded. “Of course I’m going! I have to see Wolf!” 

“No. You’re not going and that’s final.” Tony said firmly. 

“Why not?!”

“I don’t want you to miss school and therapy for this,” Tony said, not wanting to admit that he didn’t really know how stable Barnes was and the last time he’d seen Peter, he tried to kill him. So he has some slight trust issues with the man who murdered his mother and tried to murder his son. Sue him. 

“That’s bullshit.” Peter hissed. 

“ _Peter_!” Pepper cried. “I understand that you’re upset but that is no way to talk to us. We’re only trying to help you.”

Peter deflated slightly at Pepper’s words. He brushed his hands through his hair and let out a huff of frustration. “Look. Please. _Please_ let me come with you. It’s been months since I’ve seen him.”

“You went twelve years just fine.” Tony mumbled under his breath. Peter sucked in a harsh breath and Tony cursed himself for forgetting his son’s super hearing. 

“Yeah. And who’s fault was that?” Peter snapped before turning on his heels and marching out of the office. Tony flinched at the slamming of Pepper’s office door. 

“Shit.” Tony groaned, covering his face with his hands. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Pepper looked at him for a moment before sighing. She walked around her desk edge and embraced him from behind. Tony leaned into her. “I know.” she said, pressing a comforting kiss to his cheek. “I’ll talk to him.”

“But I---”

“You have a plane to catch.” Pepper said, offering a soft smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

Tony was once again reminded why he was the luckiest man on the entire damn planet.

.

.

.

.

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XX  
x

Peter was seething when he entered his room. 

He had slammed his door shut too, a small part of him wishing that they could hear it from Pepper’s office. He had then stormed around his room for a little while, attempting to work off his anger. 

It didn’t work. 

Peter threw himself onto his bed and screamed, muffling himself with his pillow. 

Why was this so frustrating?! Why wouldn’t they let him go? Peter just wanted to see Wolf, was that such a crime? Peter didn’t know what they wanted him for and Peter was sure it was something he didn’t _want_ to know. He just wanted to see his friend. 

A part of him felt ashamed of the way he reacted. Everything was going really good before. Peter had gone to the office so he could ask Tony if he wanted to work together in the garage and somehow it had escalated into a fight. 

Tears sprang into his eyes as he thought more about it. He felt ashamed of the things he said. Peter thought therapy was supposed to stop him from lashing out. So why did he scream at him? 

God, he’d inadvertently told Tony he thought he was responsible for his kidnapping _to his face_. 

“What a mess.” he muttered to himself. “FRIDAY? Where’s Tony? I think I should apologize.”

“Boss has left the building on his flight for Wakanda.” FRIDAY answered helpfully. Peter felt like that was anything but. 

“Already?” he asked, a minute amount of anger returning. “Of course. Stupid of me to assume otherwise.”

Peter then buried himself under his comforter, burrowing into his pillows for some semblance of comfort. Peter sniffled, hating that he cried whenever he was frustrated. He didn’t want to cry right now, he wanted to be angry!

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. “Peter?” Pepper asked. 

Peter groaned, burrowing deeper into his sheets. “Yes?” he said softly. Pepper slowly entered the room. Peter heard her soft footsteps get closer to his bed until he felt his bed shift under her weight. 

“How’re you feeling?” she asked softly. 

“Crappy.” Peter answered honestly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pepper asked. Peter groaned again, unsure. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but he felt really stupid and guilty already, the last thing he wanted was for Pepper to judge him. 

Peter stayed silent, choosing to instead sulk harder. Pepper just sighed and laid down on his bed beside him. Peter stiffened for a second before relaxing, turning so he could rest his head on his pillow more comfortably while still being able to see Pepper. 

“You know, when you were first born, Tony wouldn’t touch you.” she said suddenly, startling Peter out of his thoughts. 

Peter narrowed his eyes, looking at her in confusion. “What?” he asked. 

“He was so terrified.” Pepper continued, looking off to the wall across the room. “He didn’t have the best childhood, you see. He was so afraid that he was going to be like his father. He wouldn’t come near you. Said he didn’t want to ruin you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter asked, sitting up on one elbow. Pepper turned to look at him. 

“I confronted him about two weeks after you came home with us,” she continued. The only sign that she had heard Peter’s question was the fact that she was now facing him. “I demanded he hold you. Just once.” she laughed. “Can you believe it? Two weeks after you’d been born and he hadn’t even _held_ you.”

Peter was silent, watching Pepper speak with a confused look on his face. She sighed and looked at Peter with such burning fondness, he felt a strange feeling of comfort bubble up in his chest. 

“We fought for a few minutes and then you started crying.” Pepper said softly. “Jarvis said that you were in distress and Tony _booked it_. He ran so fast…” Pepper let out a laugh. “When I finally got up there you were sobbing and Tony was standing over you. Let me tell you, I’ve seen Tony face aliens and monsters, but I’ve never seen him so afraid before.”

“What… What happened?” Peter asked. Pepper chuckled. 

“He bent down and picked you up. The second you were in his arms you stopped crying and fell asleep.” Pepper said, brushing a curl out of Peter’s face. “Tony fell in love that day. Ever since that day all he’s ever wanted to do was protect you and keep you safe. Tony loves you _so_ much. We _both_ do.” 

Peter bit his lip and looked down, playing with his hands awkwardly. “I feel bad for fighting with him.” Peter admitted softly. Pepper hummed and began to gently card her hands through Peter’s hair. The calming motion soothed him and Peter snuggled into Pepper’s arms. “I don’t like fighting with him.”

“I know, honey,” Pepper assured him. “Tony does too.”

“I just wish he trusted me.” Peter said bitterly. 

“Oh Peter,” Pepper said softly. “He does. Believe me, we trust you so much. We just don’t trust other people with you. We just want to keep you safe.”

“I know I just… I can’t protect myself.” Peter whispered. Pepper sighed. 

“We know.” she said. “But some days all we see when we look at you is that frightened little baby who just wanted to be held…” Pepper’s voice trailed off, a melancholy tinge to it and it made Peter wince. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Pepper laughed. “Oh sweetie you didn’t upset me.” she said. “Sometimes thinking about the past makes me a little sad, is all.”

Peter bit his lip. “Do you… Do you ever wish you could go back?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded. “Go back and… change it?”

Pepper hummed. “I used to.” she said softly. “I used to think about it a lot after you were gone. I would’ve done so much differently that day. I would’ve protected you better.”

“But you don’t anymore?” Peter asked in confusion. Pepper shook her head. 

“As painful as the past was, as much as it hurts to know that you were raised not knowing who were were…” Pepper sighed. “As much pain as you went through without us… At the end of the day you came home. And you weren’t alone. You have a much bigger family because of it all. I guess… I guess if I went back and changed it all… you would never have met the Parkers. _We_ would never have met May.”

Peter grinned gently. “Yeah.” he said softly. “That would suck. Could you even imagine?”

Pepper laughed. “I’d miss her and her cooking.”

“I’m glad I found you guys,” Peter admitted softly, looking down at his hands. Pepper’s breath hitched in the back of her throat as she looked at the teen in front of me. “I’m really glad you’re my mom, Pepper.”

Pepper blinked back tears, her mouth opened in a small ‘o’. It took her a second to find her voice which had been lost from the sudden lump in her throat. “Oh Peter,” she said, her voice cracking. “Me too.” 

Peter smiled, nothing more needed to be said. They sat together in comfortable silence before Peter felt exhaustion start to creep in. Emotional breakdowns and crying always made Peter tried. Peter snuggled closer to Pepper, resting in her arms. 

Pepper, noticing that Peter was about to fall asleep, quietly asked FRIDAY to dim the lights. Pepper brushed away a stray curl out of Peter’s face and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you so much Peter.” she whispered. 

Peter was half-asleep when he mumbled back, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. That was just one huge emotional roller coaster. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Don't worry more Irondad fluff is on its way. (But I worried Pepper might be feeling a little left out ;) If you liked this chapter please leave a kudos and a review!!! 
> 
> Next update: Friday


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony struggles to come to terms with what Barnes did. Something’s wrong at Peter’s school

"How are you doing?” Natasha asked, sitting down next to Tony. 

“Oh great.” Tony snapped. “I’m on a flight to invite the man who murdered my mom to live with me after having yet _another_ fight with my son. I’m just peachy.”

Natasha didn’t falter at the venom in his voice and if anything, that made Tony feel even worse. Why did these things always happen to him? What did he do to deserve this? Is it too much to ask to just stay at home surrounded by his wife and son and make dinner? Tony craved the domestic life so much it ached. 

“Why are you letting him stay with you if it bothers you so much?” Natasha asked. Tony frowned, his gaze unwillingly flitting over to where Steve was chatting with Clint. Natasha caught his gaze and frowned. 

Tony cut her off the second she opened her mouth. “It’s not that.” he lied. Natasha merely raised an eyebrow and Tony grit his teeth. “It’s not.” he said again. “I’m doing this because Fury said so.”

Natasha had the gall to laugh. She laughed loud and hard, drawing the attention of said super soldier who looked at the pair in confusion. Natasha regained her composure and shook her head at Tony. “That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told me.” she said. “You never listen to Fury. Ever. There’s no way you’d do something like this just cause _Fury_ said so.” 

“It’s fine.” Tony grumbled, looking out the window at the sky. Natasha’s gaze softened. 

“Oh Tony,” she said softly. She sat down in the chair next to him. “You’re too kind for this world.”

Tony scoffed. “Uh, no.” he said, rolling his eyes. “Have you met me? Textbook narcissist, remember?” 

“Literally. I’m assuming you learned your mask in a textbook?” Natasha said seriously. Tony stiffened. “Tony, your mask is good but I’m a super spy. I only wish I saw it sooner.”

“Saw _what_ sooner?” Tony hissed. Natasha only smiled at him and it made Tony uncomfortable. 

“How good you are.” 

Natasha watched Tony for a few more seconds before she stood up. “You should talk to Steve about this,” she said. “He wouldn’t want you to suffer for his sake.” and with those parting words of advice, Natasha strolled away. 

Tony sat in stunned silence, his eyes staring unseeingly at the spot Natasha had just been in. Good? There were many words that had been used to describe Tony over the course of his life ( _DisapointmentWorthlessMerchantOfDeathKillerMurdererSelfish_ ) but good had never been one of them. 

Tony scoffed, hunching in on himself as he returned his gaze to the window. 

He didn’t have nearly enough sleep to be thinking about this.

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XX  
x

Wakanda was---as usual---stunning. 

Tony had been practically vibrating in his seat in excitement, waiting for the plane to land. It was true that Tony did not want to see Barnes, but he was excited to see the country. As well as his friends. Now, Tony wasn’t huge on religion. But seeing Wakanda proved that heaven really did exist. 

“Are you excited Bruce?” Tony asked, a rare smile decorating his face. “This is so exciting! You’ve never been here before, have you?”

Tony’s infectious energy spread to the rest of the team, as Bruce had a grin on his face as well. “I am quite interested. From all of my knowledge, Wakanda was a third world country. Even after they announced their technological superiority, I am very interested in seeing it in real life.”

“Oh my god you’re going to be so impressed!” Tony swooned. “This is a techie’s heaven.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll have time to look around before we get Bucky,” he said. (And there goes Tony’s joy and happiness) “We’re going to be meeting King T’Challa before we see him.”

“This will be so much fun!” Tony said, forcing himself to smile. He felt Natasha’s gaze bore into the side of his neck. “Let’s go!”

Tony practically dragged Bruce out of his chair and out the door. Tony squinted at the bright light before they adjusted. Tony waved when he saw King T’Challa and Shuri standing a few feet away, ready to greet them. 

“Mr. Stark.” T’Challa said, nodding his head. Tony grinned. 

“Heya Kitty,” he said, ignoring the indignant sputters coming from Steve at his blatant disrespect. “Long time no see, eh?” 

T’Challa merely chuckled. “I have missed you, my friend,” he said. “And your wit.”

“Hello again Mr. Stark.” Shuri cut in. Tony smiled. 

“Well if it isn’t my second favorite teen genius.” Tony said, tipping his head. Shuri pouted. 

“Who has taken my place?” she demanded. Tony just winked. 

“Trade secrets, I’m afraid.” he said. T’Challa let out a true laugh this time as Shuri glared. Tony clapped his hands. “So! Shall we?” he asked. 

“Indeed.” Shuri said, gesturing for them to follow. “Your broken white boy is this way.”

Steve sputtered again and this time, it was Tony’s turn to laugh.

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XX  
x

Tony didn’t go in. 

He wasn’t being a bad friend, but he just couldn’t stomach going into that room and seeing him. It wasn’t the first time that Barnes had lived in his tower, and Tony doubted it’d be the last, however the last time he was there, Tony was too preoccupied in keeping his idiot son safe to really process his parent’s deaths (murder) again. 

“Are you broken Mr. Stark?” Shuri called, looking at his huddled form. “Because I don’t want to fix another one.”

Tony laughed. “No, I’m fine.” he said softly. Shuri just shook her head and sat down on the bench next to him. The rest of the Avengers had gone through the metal double doors that led to Barnes’ semi-permanent lab/bedroom, leaving Tony to sit on the bench outside. 

“I am sixteen, Stark.” Shuri said. “If you think I can’t tell when someone is hiding how they really feel, then you are sorely mistaken.” 

Tony sighed. “It’s… It’s complicated.”

“I am a fucking genius.” Shuri said, ignoring Tony’s wide-eyed stare at her language. “I think I can understand it.”

Tony just laughed for a second before nodding. “Did you know that the Winter Soldier murdered my parents?” he asked. Shuri was silent for a second before she responded. 

“I did.” she said. “Is this the reason why you aren’t okay? Because he killed your parents?”

Tony looked down at his hands. “I didn’t care about my Dad.” he said. “Shitty thing to say, I know, but to me, he wasn’t much of a dad in the first place. He was always a bastard and as harsh as it is, my life got better once he was gone.”

“But…” 

“But he was still my Dad.” Tony said. “I can count on one hand how many good memories I have of him, but he was still…” Tony trailed off. Tony looked at the ground for a second before he sucked in a harsh breath of air, then he continued. “But my _mom_ \---” Tony’s voice cracked and he hated it. “---she was the best person in this goddamn world. I loved her so much. A part of me broke when I got that call…” 

Tony’s breath hitched in the back of his throat. “And I guess it was better… when I thought that Howard had killed her in the accident. It was easier because I hated him and I loved her.” he sighed. “For so many years I hated him for what he did to us. For killing her. And for me to find out that he didn’t kill her all along…” 

Tony's hands clenched into fists, and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened to escape. He didn’t want Barnes to be the killer because he wanted to hold on to that hatred. He wanted to hold on to it so that he wouldn’t have to hurt. He didn’t want… 

“Damn,” Shuri said softly, breaking the silence. “I might have to fix you after all.” 

Tony chuckled. “No thanks kid, I don’t trust you after what happened last time.” Shuri gasped in mock offense. 

“I apologized!” she cried. “How was I supposed to know it would explode.”

“I thought you were a genius.” he teased. Shuri just shook her head. 

“Have you considered therapy?” she asked him. Tony froze slightly, his hand twitching at the thought. 

“Therapy?” he asked. Shuri nodded. 

“Maybe you should see a therapist. It can be good to have bottled up… what? Twenty-Five years of anger.” Shuri said. “It might be a good idea. It could help, you know.”

Tony wanted to laugh at the irony. “I know.” he said. “I’ve had therapy before. It does help. I guess I thought I was better now…” 

Shuri shook her head. “You never get _better_ after losing someone you love.” she said. “You move on and you live your life but it’s still going to hurt.”

Tony thought back to the pain and misery he felt after the call. How he was so drunk he could barely stand. How he was practically comatose for a week, refusing to leave his mother's bed. Sobbing when his cologne covered the scent of her cherry perfume. How even years later, he was lethargic on her birthday and the anniversary of her death. 

“I know.” he said softly. “But I need to do this. I need to get better.”

“You can’t rush recovery.” Shuri pointed out.

Tony grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time I did the impossible.”

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XX  
x

Peter was having a really weird day. 

He was just on his way to school when everyone started pointing and him and whispering amongst themselves. Peter frowned looking behind him to see if they were looking at something else, only to come up empty. 

Peter, starting to feel very uncomfortable with all of the looks he was receiving, looked down at his feet and started to walk a little faster. He had made all the way to the school before everything went wrong. 

The second he set foot on campus, Peter was swarmed. Peter let out a cry when suddenly there were flashes everywhere and so many voices screaming at him. A microphone was thrust into his face and Peter flinched backwards.

A hand grabbed his wrist and Peter freaked, wrenching it back towards his chest, only to be tugged again. 

“Peter!” a familiar voice called. Peter snapped his head, trying to find Happy in the sea of people around him. 

“Happy!” Peter called frantically. “Happy, what’s going on?!”

Finally the grumpy man shoved his way through the crowd. He grabbed Peter’s wrist and tugged him gently to the car, the sea of people following them. 

“Someone leaked your identity to the press.” he said pressing a button and causing blinds to cover all of the windows, and Peter let out a sigh of relief when the flashing stopped. “Come on, we need to get back to the tower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading everybody! IMPORTANT: So, I'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands for the nest few weeks, which means my update schedule will be changing. The next chapter will still come out on _Tuesday_ however when I post the next chapter I will also post the change in my update schedule. Thanks again for reading and leave a kudos and a review!! :) <3


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Peter’s identity leaked, he has been confined to the tower. Tony is anxious to get back home and protect him

Peter’s leg jiggled up and down, causing the table to bounce with him. He hadn’t moved from his position since he’d got home from school. Pepper paced the length of the kitchen furiously, going back and forth from talking to the PR lawyers, Peter’s school, and several different newspaper companies. 

Peter’s hand was gripped tightly around his wrist, a frown resting on his face. Bruce had mentioned that his healing factor was slowing down for some reason, and the proof of that was on his wrist. A small hand-print shaped bruise covered his wrist where an overzealous reporter had grabbed him. 

Pepper had freaked when she saw it. 

The semi-silence in the kitchen was broken when the elevator dinged, signalling May’s arrival. Pepper had sent a car to pick up May the second Peter’s identity had been leaked. May was going to be staying at the tower for a little while until everything was all sorted out. 

They still didn’t know who leaked his identity to the press---it was a very large secret that few people knew of---but Peter knew that Tony would rain hell on whoever did this. 

“How are you holding up?” May asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. Peter shrugged, not really in the mood to speak. May just hummed and pulled him in for a hug. Peter buried his face in her shoulder, the comforting scent of her perfume making his eyes water. “It’s going to be okay sweetie.” 

“Everyone knows,” Peter mumbled. Peter heard Pepper’s footsteps approach the table and sit down on the other side of him. 

“Don’t worry Peter,” Pepper said, taking his free hand in hers. “We’re going to sort everything out.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, removing himself from the comfort of May’s arms to look at Pepper in confusion. 

“Well with your identity leaked to the press we’re going to need to make an official statement,” pepper said with a small frown. Peter’s heart sped up. 

“You mean… you’re going to tell everyone the truth?” he asked. Pepper bit her lip. 

“Do you not want people to know?” she asked, her voice small. Peter felt the guilt hit him full force and he quickly shook his head. 

“No! No it’s not that…” Peter looked at the ground. “I just don’t want people to treat me differently.” Peter sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. “Before I was just… Peter Parker the orphan. Now everyone is going to treat me…”

Pepper took both of Peter’s hands in hers and gently lifted Peter’s head so that he could make direct eye contact. Her warm gaze made Peter relax slightly. “Sweetheart,” she said softly. “You’re going to be fine. I promise that everything will be okay. If anyone treats you differently we’ll deal with it together.”

Peter sighed and nodded. “Okay…” he said. He took a deep breath. “How are we going to do this?” he asked. 

“Press conference.” Pepper said. “I’ll have to set one up.”

“What would he have to do?” May asked. “Would he need to prepare a speech or something because you know how Peter gets about speaking in front of crowds---”

“No, no,” Pepper said with a soft chuckle. “We won’t make Peter speak or anything. We’ll probably just announce our son’s safe return and ask for privacy.”

“Ask?” Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“Well Tony will definitely threaten to sue,” Pepper smirked. “But I will ask politely. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” 

Peter gave a hesitant smile and nodded. He didn’t want to tell people the truth. Not really. It’s not that he hasn’t accepted who he is or who his parents are, it's more of how afraid Peter is of the reaction. Peter frowned just thinking about how school will change. 

He knows that he’s never really been ‘popular’ before. But with his true identity out in the open for everyone to see, there are going to be a lot of people trying to get close to him in an attempt for fame. Peter’s not stupid. He knows that people are awful and that they will do what they can in order to get money and fame and Peter is going to become a stepping stone. 

He’s not the best when it comes to confrontation and he’s not looking forward to telling people he’s not interested in their fake friendships. 

“When are we going to do a press conference?” Peter heard himself asking. Pepper hummed as she thought. 

“Soon.” she said. “We can’t just leave the world to speculate. But we’ll have to wait for Tony to get home before we do anything.”

“When will he be back?” Peter asked, mixed feelings arising as he thought about Tony’s return. They had left off on a bad note. Was he angry with Peter? For the fight? For the leak? And Peter was also nervous because if Tony came home that meant so would Wolf. 

Pepper smirked. “He’s trying to speed things up,” she said. “He’s _furious_.” 

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XX  
x

Tony was having the _best_ day. 

(Note the sarcasm.)

After his very enlightening talk with Shuri, out came Steve. His face was bright with hope and excitement and Tony bit his lip to stifle the mixed emotions that rose up in the back of his throat. (Or was that bile?) Tony forced his camera-ready smile onto his face and rose gracefully. 

“What’s the news, Cap?” Tony asked. Shuri shook her head silently beside him. 

“All good.” Steve said happily. “He’s awake and responding. And he’s perfectly healthy now, right?” Steve asked, looking at Shuri. 

“Do you doubt me?” she scoffed. She then looked at him seriously. “Just because he’s free from Hydra’s control, doesn’t mean that all the trauma he has magically went away. He still needs a lot of therapy.” 

Steve nodded. “That’s to be expected.” 

Tony clapped his hands. “Alright! Now that that’s out of the way, you want to show me to your lab?” he asked, his eyes widening in excitement. “I hear it’s drool-worthy.”

Shuri threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t assault my lab, Stark.” she said. “You have a wife.”

Tony just wiggled his eyebrows, causing Steve to blush and Shuri to laugh even harder. Steve coughed and looked back at Tony. “Don’t you want to go home?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t want to come here.”

“Well I’m here now,” Tony shrugged, ignoring the burning gaze of Shuri beside him. “May as well enjoy the views.”

Steve shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

“I am---” the ringing of Tony’s cellphone cut it off. He held up a finger and looked at the I.D, a smile gracing his face when he saw who was calling. “Hello my love. What can I do for you---”

“Tony, it’s been leaked!” Pepper’s frantic voice came over the phone. Tony froze, his face clearly giving away his fear because Steve looked at him in concern, mouthing the words, ‘ _What’s wrong?_ ’ at him wearily. 

“What are you talking about, Pep?” Tony asked, his voice as hard as steel. 

“Someone leaked Peter’s identity.” Pepper cried. “He got swarmed by the press outside of school. Happy was able to get him and May back to the Tower safely.”

“Fuck!” Tony cursed. He snapped his head to Shuri. “Shuri! You got a TV somewhere?” 

Shuri nodded and quickly led Tony to a room where the rest of the Avengers and Barnes were standing along with T’Challa. Tony ignored all of them in favor of snatching the remote and turning to the first major news channel he could think of. 

Two reporters sat at the table, a picture of Peter being pulled by Happy into a car in the background behind them. “---no comments from the S.I departments but we do have an unconfirmed leak that Peter Stark, previously thought to have been killed, is actually alive.” the woman reporter said. Tony ignored the sharp inhale of everyone in the room while rage flew through him. 

“Who leaked it?” Tony demanded. 

“We don’t know.” Pepper sighed. “It was so well kept… We’re working on it right now. Tony, I think we need to have a press conference. We can’t leave them to their own devices, this could be devastating.”

“How’s Peter holding up?” Tony asked. “He wasn’t ready for the world to know yet.”

“He’s holding up as well as you’d think.” Pepper said sadly. “He’s been staring into nothing for the past ten minutes. Tony, he’s practically catatonic. One of those damn reporters bruised his wrist. I’m going to sue.”

Tony glared. “You do that,” he snarled. “I’m coming as soon as I can. Keep him safe.”

“I will,” Pepper promised. “I love you. Come home soon.”

“Love you too.” he said, before slamming the end button and letting out a curse. “I need to go home.” he said, looking back at the team. “We need to get back to the tower. _Now_.”

“Stark your son---”

“Yes, he’s alive.” Tony snapped, a small amount of guilt ebbing his words when he saw Shuri’s wide eyes. Tony sighed. “We found him close to a year ago. We’ve been doing what we could to keep him out of the press.”

“Is he free to leave?” Natasha asked, an eyebrow raised at Shuri. Shuri nodded quickly. “Tony, let’s go.”

Tony nodded, his face grim. “Let’s go home, team. Peter needs me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!! If you don't see the next chapter, hit refresh until you do!!!! :))))))


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team returns to the tower to deal with the press. Bucky and Peter catch up.

Peter was in the middle of pretending to eat the hastily made macaroni when Tony burst into the kitchen. Peter almost winced at the look of pure fury in his eyes and Peter quickly set down his spoon and stood up. Peter waved at him shyly, the fight they’d had still fresh on his mind. “Hey Tony---”

Peter was cut off when a heavy weight crashed into his chest. It took Peter a second to realize that Tony was hugging him. “I’m so sorry Peter,” he said. “We’re going to fix this. I promise.” 

Peter nodded against his shoulder. “‘M sorry.” he mumbled. Tony just held him a little tighter. 

“It’s okay,” he said, slowly pulling away from Peter. He had a determined glint in his eyes when he looked at Peter. “I’m not mad at you. None of this is your fault.” 

Peter had meant he was sorry about the fight, but for some reason he didn’t feel like bringing it up again. So instead Peter just nodded and shuffled back to the chair, his hand picking up the spoon he’d left there. “Where is everyone?” Peter asked, eyeing the macaroni with distaste. He had no appetite. He hadn't had much of an appetite at all lately... 

“They’re in a meeting with Fury.” Tony said wearily, pulling out a mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Debrief and all that fun stuff.” Peter nodded. 

Peter bit his lip, the desire to ask about Wolf so strong, but at the same time, Peter wasn’t sure how to ask. “So…” Peter trailed off, wincing at the hesitation in his voice. God! Could he be anymore obvious? 

Apparently not. Tony sighed and sat down in the chair next to him. “Barnes is in the tower right now.” he said, looking at Peter firmly. “He’s no longer conditioned so you don’t have to worry about the Winter Soldier.” 

“I’m not afraid of Wolf.” Peter said. And surprisingly it was true. Despite their little stint a few months ago, Peter wasn’t afraid of the man. Wolf had never intentionally hurt him and Peter knew he never would. 

Tony, it seemed, was less sure. He grimaced at Peter’s words before he quickly downed more of his coffee, the mug shielding his expression from Peter’s view. They sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds, the only sounds in the kitchen coming from Tony’s mug and Peter awkwardly scraping his pasta around. 

Finally Tony sighed. “Peter,” he said. Peter sat up straighter. “About our fight---”

“I’m sorry!” Peter rushed out. He grimaced as he remembered the horrible thing he had said. “I didn’t mean it!” 

“Peter, sometimes when we bottle something up it comes out in the worst way,” Tony said, looking at Peter with nothing but concern in his eyes. Peter swallowed dryly and looked away. “I want you to express your emotions in a healthy way. I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with blaming---”

“I don’t.” Peter said softly, his gaze drifting down to his hands. Peter fumbled, trying to find the best way to express his feelings. “I did… before. But I don’t. Anymore.” 

“Peter, please, talk to me. I want to help,” Tony all but begged. Peter sighed. This was so not the conversation he wanted to have today. “It’s okay, Pete. You can talk to me.” 

“I used to be really mad,” Peter said, a sad tint ebbing into his words. “But I don’t think I was ever mad at _you_ , I was just mad because I needed to be. You know?”

Tony swallowed and looked away, understanding flashing through his eyes before he controlled it. It made Peter wonder when Tony had felt that too. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I do.” 

“But I’m not anymore,” Peter said. “Because I know that there is no one to blame. Besides Hydra, none of you guys are at fault for what happened. It just… happened. It’s sad and horrible but that’s just reality.”

“Peter…” Tony said softly, but Peter wasn’t done. He looked back up at Tony, willing him to understand. 

“But it was wrong of me to just throw that in your face.” Peter said. “I don’t like fighting with you. It makes me sad. So, I’m sorry.”

Tony looked at him for a few seconds before he smiled, his eyes a little wet. Tony pulled Peter in for a hug and Peter burrowed his face into his chest. “It’s okay baby,” he said. “I forgive you.” 

Peter smiled, some of the anxiety melting away while he sat there and let himself be held. 

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XX  
x

“Wow. You look like shit old man.” 

Wolf turned around, a weary smile on his face. Peter wasn’t joking. Wolf looked horrible. His hair was long and scraggly---clearly in need of a wash---and he had huge bags under his eyes. Despite his haggard appearance, Peter had never seen Wolf looking so happy and carefree. It was like the world had been lifted off the man’s shoulders. 

It was a good look. 

Wolf let out a loud laugh. “I missed your sass, Spider.” he said. “C’mere.” 

Peter fell into the familiar embrace, and relief that he hadn’t realized he needed coursed through him. Peter had been so worried about him all this time. About where he was. If he was okay. Seeing him here and seeing how obviously better he’s doing made Peter feel so much better.

“How are you?” Peter asked, separating from the man’s hold.

“Better,” Wolf said, gesturing for Peter to sit on the couch that sat at the edge of his room. “For the first time in a long time I feel like myself again. It’s a wonderful feeling.” 

“I’m glad.” Peter said with a genuine smile. 

“That stuff, whatever it is, really works,” Wolf said, and Peter frowned when Wolf gave him a look. “You should try it.” 

“Why would I do that?” Peter asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

“To get rid of your conditioning.” Wolf said matter-of-factly. 

Peter froze. 

_“Don’t say my name.”_

_“Stand straight, treat your betters with respect.”_

_“Don’t say my---”_

_“Who am I?”_

_“Don’t say---”_

_“Who am I, Experiment 2176?”_

_“Don’t---”_

_“Who am I?”_

_DON’T SAY ANYTHING!_

Peter blinked and shook his head. “I don’t have any conditioning.” he said quickly. Wolf gave him a look and Peter frowned. “I don’t.” he insisted. 

“Okay,” Wolf said softly. “But if you ever feel like you might, just tell Stark. I’m sure he’ll help you out.” 

“I’m already getting help.” Peter cut in, feeling strangely inadequate. Wolf raised an eyebrow and Peter crossed his arms defensibly. “I’m in therapy. Tony says it will help.” 

“Has it?” Wolf asked. Peter shrugged, a sense of shame washing over him, and Peter hunched in on himself. 

“I think?” he said, attempting to shrug off the feeling of shame. Tony told him that there was nothing wrong with getting therapy. He wasn’t weird, he was just like everyone else. “I don’t have as many nightmares.” 

“That’s good.” Wolf said with a nod. “Nightmares… they mess you up.” 

Peter shivered, the image of May’s neck snapping causing goose flesh to spread on his arms. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “They do.” 

“You got PTSD?” Wolf asked, the question startling Peter. 

Did he have PTSD? Everyone kept saying he did, but Peter didn’t want to have it. Didn’t want to admit it because that meant that everything was real. That meant that he wasn’t strong. It meant he wasn’t strong because all those things that happened to him were still affecting him. Having PTSD meant that he was broken. Peter didn’t want to be broken. He was _sick_ and _tired_ of people treating him like he was broken. 

Dr. Stacy had told him that there was nothing wrong with needing help. It meant that he was strong because most people weren’t even willing to do that. They just carried on with their lives, purposefully oblivious to their problems and never getting help. It made them miserable and their pride refused to let them get better. 

Peter didn’t think he was prideful. (He was fifteen, though, so maybe he was.) Peter was just so tired of not being in control. Dr. Stacy said that his control issues were a common side effect of PTSD. Needing control, needing a routine, a stable environment, all of those things were very common in people who suffered from a traumatic incident. Peter needed all of those things, so it made sense on paper that he had PTSD. 

Did Peter suffer through something traumatic? Peter thought back to all the times he was punished, the pounding of his heart after waking from a nightmare, the dripping of water reminding him of his cell, loud noises reminding him of the guns. Yes. Peter went through something traumatic. 

Did he have PTSD? 

Peter bit his lip, his hands trembling in his lap. “Yes…” he admitted softly, a tear streaking down his cheek. “I do.” 

Wolf did not make a grand gesture at the admittance. He did not congratulate Peter for finally allowing himself to accept the truth. Nor did he shower him with pity and embrace him tightly, whispering sweet lies in his ear about how everything was going to get better. 

Wolf merely nodded. “Me too.”

And that was it. 

A weight had been lifted off his shoulders and in that moment, Peter was exhausted. 

How long had he been ignoring it? How long had he refused to accept it? Now that it was finally out, Peter felt like he could breathe again. Was this what Dr. Stacy called a break through? Peter sighed and let his head rest back against the couch back. 

“I’m tired.” he said, surprised at how much he was willing to admit with Wolf. 

Wolf seemed to understand Peter’s meaning, because he nodded. “Me too.” he said once more. “Some days… Some days I just want to stay in bed and never leave.” 

Peter nodded. He felt like that too, sometimes. “Sometimes I feel like that,” Peter said. “Some days it feels like that’s the only place I’ll be safe.” 

“It’s going to get better.” Wolf said. Peter raised his eyebrow, his gaze flitting up the high ceiling. 

“Is it?” 

“That’s what they keep telling me,” Wolf said. “I imagine it will. Why else would they say that?” 

“Maybe they just want us to stop asking.” Peter said morbidly. Wolf just shook his head. 

“Do you really believe that?” 

“No.” Peter said softly. “But sometimes it’s easier to think that then think about how long it’s going to take to get better.” 

“Yeah,” Wolf said. “But you know what they say; ‘All good things come to those who wait’.” 

Peter blinked, looking at Wolf in surprise. It all suddenly seemed so unfair. Wolf had been waiting for such a long time. He’d been a slave to Hydra for literally seventy-years. It was horrible what he’d been through, and yet here he was still struggling to break free. 

If anyone deserved to be better, it was Wolf. And it made Peter sad that he wasn’t there yet. 

Peter then smiled. “You know that was a quote from a Disney movie, right?” 

Wolf just huffed and glared at him, making Peter laugh. “Shut up.” he said with a frown, and Peter laughed harder. 

“You know she died at the end, right?” Peter asked cheekily. 

Bucky hit him in the face with a couch cushion. 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

Peter was called to dinner, and yet he was still not hungry. He could see the concerned glanced everyone was giving him, yet Peter chose to ignore it. He didn’t want to deal with their worry right now. 

“So, Peter,” Tony began, and Peter tensed, bracing himself for what was to come. “What do you want to do about the press?” 

“I thought we were doing a press conference?” Peter asked. 

“We are,” Pepper said with a nod. “But we wanted to know when you felt comfortable doing that.” 

Peter shrugged. “The sooner the better, right?” 

Pepper and Tony shared a glance and it made Peter feel on edge. Was he missing something? “Well… yes, that’s usually the case, but we wanted to check in with you first.” Pepper said. “Make sure you’re ready for this.” 

Peter sighed. “I’m never going to be ‘ready’ so we may as well just get it over with, right?” 

“Peter---”

“It’s fine.” Peter cut Tony off. “I promise. Don’t worry.” 

“Okay.” Tony nodded. 

The rest of the dinner passed in relative silence. Aside from the occasional sidebar, no one spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however, it was more like everyone sitting there, enjoying each other’s company. 

Peter watched _The Goonies_ with the team before calling it a night, waving good night to his parents and May before he headed upstairs to his room. As Peter was putting on his pajamas he felt his nose start to run. 

Peter wiped his nose in disgust, abhorring the runny feeling in his nose, only to be surprised by the bright crimson on his hand. 

Peter stared at the blood on his hands in confusion before another drop hit his thumb. Peter went into the bathroom and was surprised to see blood dripping from both nostrils. Peter frowned, stuffed his nose with a wad of toilet paper, and flicked off the lights. 

_That’s weird_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. We've finally hit the meat of the plot, my friends. Get ready cause it's gonna get worse before it get's better. \\(>^<)/ Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a kudos and a review because they really encourage me to keep writing!! :))) Now... for the moment you've been waiting for... 
> 
> THE NEW UPDATE SCHEDULE: Probably every day or other day. To be honest I have _literally_ nothing better to do now so... 
> 
> See you next time!!! (Also, check the tags! Because I can now, _finally_ update them without the fear of spoiling the story lol)
> 
> (And stay safe; wash your hands, don't touch your face and all that good health junk)


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks hold a press conference, and Peter is having mixed feelings about Fathers day.

“Twelve years ago, our son, Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing,” Tony said, his gaze hardened to the flashes that went off around him. “I know that there have been rumors that our son was found. We are here today to address those rumors.” 

Pepper then stepped forward. She was wearing a professional skirt and suit jacket, and her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled up in a tight bun. “Before we say anything, please be reminded that we want our privacy. Anyone who takes photos or videos will be prosecuted to the fullest by our lawyers,” she said firmly. At this, the reporters in the room became excited, and murmurs were heard throughout the hall. “Almost a year ago, our son Peter was, in fact, found.”

Chaos erupted in the hall, as people began shouting at the couple. The Starks remained indifferent to the noise, and Pepper only continued once silence returned. “Peter had been kidnapped, however, managed to escape his kidnappers. He was mistaken for an orphan and taken to an orphanage where he was adopted by a couple.” 

“It is only by pure chance and the incredible NYPD that we were able to find our son.” Tony said, for once actually reading what was on the cards, not willing to risk his son’s safety for his dramatics. “As you can imagine, this was quite the shock and we ask that you do not pester our son.”

“Peter is still a minor and if any of you attempt to harass, take pictures or videos of him without his explicit permission---which you will not have---we will sue.” Pepper said, her eyes hard with determination. 

“We will now be taking questions, however we reserve the right not to answer them.” Tony said, and his glare was practically daring someone to say something rude so that he could tell them off. 

Shouting reigned over the room, and it took a few minutes before Pepper was able to point at a reporter. She stood up, her badge showing the name of her paper company and held out her recorder to the couple. “Where was Peter staying? Who were his adopted parents? Are you sure they didn’t have anything to do with his kidnapping?” 

“Peter’s adopted parents had no knowledge of Peter’s true parentage, and that is all the information we will be giving out about them at this time.” Pepper said. “Next?”

“Does Peter remember his kidnappers? Will we get to see him?” a man called out from the back. 

“Peter was too young to remember his kidnapping,” Tony said. “And you will not get to see him until we are ready. We are taking things slow. You can, however, see a picture of him.” A picture of Peter then flashed on the big screen behind the Starks. It was one of Peter’s better school pictures, and the only one Peter was willing to let be on TV.

“Is Peter a genius too? What are his accomplishments?” 

“Peter is smarter than I am,” Tony said, a proud smile spreading across his face. Flashes of cameras going off filled the room. “And his accomplishments are going to remain private. We do not want any exploitation.” 

“Mr. Stark! Are you and Peter doing anything special for Father’s Day?” 

A sad tint shone in Tony’s eyes for a second before it was gone and Tony answered, “That is private. Thank you so much for coming.” he then waved and the Starks left the stage. 

Peter clicked the power button on the remote, and the press conference disappeared from the screen. That had happened two hours ago, and Peter had been forced to turn off his phone lest it crash from the excessive notifications he was receiving. 

Sighing, Peter leaned back against the couch and let his mind wander. 

Father’s day. 

Previously, the holiday had made Peter sad---it always did. But everything was different now. Before, Mother’s day had been lost amongst the countless other things that were going on, and Peter never had the time---or, to be honest, the mental stability---to celebrate it with Pepper properly. 

Now, however, Peter seemed to be doing well. He was seeing Dr. Stacy regularly, and his nightmares and mental breakdowns were at an all time low. Not to mention, his relationship with his parents has been amazing. Save for the last fight, the Starks and Peter have finally been seeing eye to eye. For once, it actually felt like they were a real family, and not just a group of strangers forced together by circumstance. 

That being said, Peter had no idea what he was supposed to do for Father’s Day. The holiday had always seemed so foreign to him, and for good reason as he hadn’t had a father in previous years. But now that Peter did have one, he was at a loss for what to do. What did people usually do for Father’s Day? 

Peter groaned and covered his face with his hands. This was hopeless. Peter really didn’t have the faintest clue as to what he should do. What were you supposed to give your long lost father for Father’s Day?

_Hi, thanks for still loving me even though I’m a selfish, obnoxious brat all the time._

Peter sighs before standing up and leaving the living room. Pepper and Tony are at some meeting on the other side of town and the Avengers are off doing who-knows-what, so currently it’s only Peter and May in the tower. 

Peter made the short trek to his bedroom where he flopped gracelessly onto his bed. He sank into the comfortable cushions, and for a second thought about ignoring the upcoming holiday completely and instead fall asleep, but quickly dismissed the idea. 

Peter sat up on his elbow and reached out to grab his computer from the nightstand. He bit his lip for a second, feelings of inadequacy washing over him before he ultimately decided to go for it. He opened the computer and typed in the search bar, ‘What do you give to your dad on Father’s Day?’, and tried not to feel like a horrible son. 

All sorts of things came up, but for some reason, all of them made him think of Uncle Ben. 

Peter blinked to disperse the tears that had come out of nowhere and took in a trembling breath. This wasn’t fair. Why was this happening now? Suddenly, a tidal wave of guilt crashed over him.

Was he a bad person? 

Here he was, considering getting a gift for someone who hadn’t really been there for him when he was a kid. Here he was trying to come up with a father’s day gift, while the man who may as well have been his father was dead and gone. 

Suddenly angry at himself, Peter slammed his computer shut and marched out of the room. He couldn’t sit in there and look at gifts when all he could think about was the Parkers who weren’t there anymore.

Did all of them die because of him?

Mary and Richard Parker had died in a plane crash of mysterious circumstances and if Peter thought about it, (which he had) it seemed almost staged. Like it was a hit. And Ben---Peter faltered in his steps for a second when he thought about Ben’s last moments with him---Ben died looking for him. And Peter couldn’t save him. 

Was… Was Peter poison?

Peter took in another deep breath and quickly shook his head. This was a dangerous line of thinking, one that Peter couldn’t afford to go down. Not now. 

So instead of leaving himself alone with his thoughts, Peter sought out the company of his Aunt. Peter knew that Aunt May would make him feel better. She always did. 

When he entered her room, she was reading a book. She smiled when she saw him, and Peter felt a small amount of the tension leak out of him when he saw it. “Hey baby,” she said, patting the empty space next to her on the couch. Peter sat down next to her. “What’s going on, sweetheart? You look confused.” 

Peter sighed, his gaze drifting down to the pink knitted blanket on the couch that Pepper had gifted May. “I am… I think…” 

“What’s going on?” May asked again in a gentle tone, setting the book down on the arm rest. 

“Do you think… Am I a bad person?” Peter asked, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. May looked at him in shock. 

“What?” she sputtered. “A bad person? Peter where is this coming from?” 

Peter shrugged silently, his fingers coming to nervously play with the hem of his shirt. “Father’s Day is coming up,” he said instead, leaving the question unanswered. “Should I do something for it?”

“Peter,” May said softly. Peter lifted his gaze to meet hers, and suddenly Peter was choking on a lump in the back of his throat and his gaze blurred with tears. “Oh sweetie,” she cooed, pulling Peter into a tight hug. Peter sobbed softly. “It’s alright, just let it out. Take your time.” 

Peter didn’t know why he was crying. A part of him felt really stupid for crying like this, but the other part of him was confused, emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed. It felt nice to be comforted, and Peter was already starting to calm down. 

“Peter,” May said softly. “Do you feel like a bad person because you’re accepting Tony and Pepper as your parents?” 

Peter shrugged, not pulling aways from May’s warm embrace. “Am I being selfish?” he asked. 

“What makes you think that?” May asked. Peter sighed. 

“I’ve already had a lot of parental figures in my life,” he said. “Am I being fair? What about Mary and Richard and… and _Ben_?” 

May’s breath hitched in the back of her throat, and Peter felt so ashamed. For a moment, all Peter wanted to do was disappear and never be seen again. Instead of being angry with him, though, May gently tugged Peter up so that he could meet her gaze. 

May’s smile was sad, yet hopeful. She reached forwards and wiped some of the tears from Peter’s face. “Oh Peter,” she whispered. “It’s okay to let other people in. You’ve been by yourself for so long. You don’t know how _happy_ it makes me to see you letting people in. I want you to be happy. So do what makes you happy.”

Peter’s face crumpled and he let out another sob. “I thought… maybe he was… disappointed in me.” 

“Peter, Ben could never be disappointed in you for making your family bigger,” May said firmly. “Just because there’s more people to love, does not mean there’s less love to give.” 

Peter nodded. “I think… I think maybe I really do love them.” Peter said softly. May smiled and pulled Peter in for a hug. 

“I’m glad,” she said. “I want you to experience as much love as you can. I will be here with you every step of the way, I promise.” 

Peter just hugged her tighter in response. 

.

.

.

.

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XX  
x

“Here.” 

Tony looked up, his eyes wide in surprise as Peter held out something to him. His face was red and he wasn’t meeting Tony’s gaze as he held out a card. Tony’s eyes widened when he saw it, a warm feeling bubbling up inside his chest at the hand-made card. 

He took it, hands trembling, and opened it. Tony felt like his breath had been punched out of his chest at the big bright words written in red. 

_Happy Father’s Day, Dad! Thanks for being there for me. I love you a ton!_

Tears fell down his face as he pulled Peter in for a tight hug. Peter leaned into the embrace and Tony had never felt more blessed. 

“Thank you, Peter,” he said, his voice wrecked. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Peter said softly. “It’s been so confusing. But I finally figured it out.” 

“Figured what out?” Tony asked, still in awe of the card he’d just received. (He was going to fucking frame it. It was going to hang on his wall for the rest of time and no one could stop him.) 

“That I love you.” Peter said easily, as if he hadn’t just knocked the air out of Tony's lungs. Again. “And that I’m really lucky to have you as my dad.” 

Tony could only let out a choked, “Love you too.” before he was crying once more, his hold on his son tightened.

For once, he didn’t care that he was showing his vulnerability to everyone in the kitchen. For once he didn’t care if they saw him cry. To him, all that mattered was his son in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! (I guess I felt like we needed some fluff before it all went to shit so...) If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a review! 
> 
> When you say you're going to update more but then writers block hits you in the face. (Oof)
> 
> Sorry guys, but it looks like I'm sticking to the original updating schedule for now. At least until I get a little bit more written. 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe! And thanks again for reading!


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s not feeling well, so he takes a sick day. But is it more than that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW:** Disassociation, mentions of past physical abuse, panic attacks  
> READ WITH CAUTION

Peter groaned miserably, and he rolled over and snuggled deeper into his comforter. Who knew a headache and a cold could make someone feel this terrible? There was nothing Peter wanted to do more than fall back asleep, but he had school today. 

Peter whined, impossibly unhappy. With only two more weeks of school left before summer, it was so unfair that he’d feel this awful now. Although, to be fair, it’s not like Peter _wanted_ to go to school. 

After the press conference, Peter was right, everyone was treating him differently now. The teachers all stared at him like he was some puzzle that needed to be fixed and all the students whispered and pointed. It made him feel like a freak. 

Peter groaned again and a cough tore itself out of his throat. Peter winced at the raw feeling in his throat and sat up, a small wave of vertigo washing over him. “Shit.” he muttered. 

“Peter?” Pepper called, knocking on the door. Peter’s headache spiked. “Peter, honey, are you up?”

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled, wincing as the pain in his throat increased. He needed water. “I’m up.” 

“Are you okay?” Pepper asked, and Peter could head the frown in her voice. Peter didn’t answer, instead choosing to burrow once more into his blankets. Peter winced when the door creaked open and it sounded like nails dragging down a chalkboard. “Peter?”

“H-Hey, Pepper.” Peter said, and then a cough tore itself out of his throat. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, and Peter felt the bed dip under her weight. “Are you feeling okay? FRIDAY?” she asked when Peter didn’t answer. 

“Peter appears to be suffering from a minor cold and migraine,” FRIDAY said in a helpful and bubbly tone. 

“Aw, Peter,” Pepper cooed, and Peter sighed when she gently traced the lines on his forehead with her finger. “It’s going to be okay. Do you want to stay home today?” she asked. 

Peter frowned, back to his earlier dilema. He definitely didn’t want to go to school feeling like such utter crap, but at the same time, did it make him a coward for not wanting to deal with the school’s bullshit again? 

Pepper decided for him. “How about I go make you some hot tea while you try and go back to sleep, hm?” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I’ll call the school and tell them not to expect you.” 

“Thanks Pep.” Peter mumbled, allowing his head to rest back against the pillow. The pounding in his head did not subside, but the anxiety threatening to choke him eased back when he found he wouldn’t be going to school today. 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“Why?”

“Peter don’t---”

“Why? Why?”

Pepper tried so hard to fight off the laughter that threatened to choke her. “Peter, please---”

“ _WHY_??” 

Peter, in a fit of rage, threw the bin of popcorn on the ground and let out a yell of frustration before instantly hissing and covering his head. The migraine did not appreciate his passion. 

“Are you okay?” Pepper asked, a small chuckle escaping her lips. 

“No.” Peter said with a pout, flopping back onto the couch. “She picked the wrong man.” 

“No, honey, I meant your head.” Pepper said. 

“No, my head hurts,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “But my pride hurts even worse. How? How could she do this? I mean, seriously! What was she thinking?!” 

“I told you she would pick Brad,” Pepper said with a fond smile. “I warned you.” 

“But it’s a mistake!” Peter cried, and then he winced again and brought his hand back to his head. “God! Look what you’ve done Samantha! You made my head hate me even more!” 

Pepper finally couldn’t take it, she burst out laughing. Peter just frowned at her, a heavy pout resting on his face and it only made Pepper laugh harder. She was still laughing when Tony entered the living room, his eyes sweeping over the scene with a raised eyebrow. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. Peter huffed and crossed his arms. 

“She’s making fun of me!” he cried. Pepper laughed even harder. Tony swallowed back a fond grin. 

“He’s mad because of the ending of the Bachelorette.” Pepper said. 

“Ah,” Tony said with a nod. “I forgot how obsessed you guys are with that show. You do know it’s fake, right? They don’t actually love each other.” 

“It’s the precedent, Tony!” Peter cried. “They just ruined everything because she picked the _bad boy_! Why would she do that?! He’s awful for her! Jeremy was _in love_ with her!!!! And she just brushed him off! Why?!” 

Peter then hissed once more and brought his hands up to cover his head, taking controlled breaths. Tony frowned. “You good, Pete? What’s going on?” 

“‘M Fine,” Peter said, just a cough decided to make its appearance. “Just a headache.” 

“Maybe you should sleep it off?” Tony suggested. “I have bad migraines too. Usually I just take some medication and take a nap. It’s always better by the time I wake up.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea,” he said. “I _am_ pretty tired.” 

“Go take a nap, sweetie,” Pepper said. “I’ll clean up in here. I’ll wake you up before dinner.” 

“Okay,” Peter said, standing up. He walked forward and hugged Pepper. “Thanks for watching with me.”

A soft smile spread across her face and Pepper pressed a kiss to the crown of Peter’s head. “Any time, sweetheart. Have a nice nap.” 

Peter merely nodded and walked out of the room, his head throbbing. He sluggishly made his bed more comfortable and climbed in. He was asleep by the time he hit the pillow. 

_He was running._

_Who was running? Was he running? When did he start running?_

_“Быстрее! Если я вас поймаю, вы пожалеете!” Oh. That’s why he’s running. He needs to do his drills or the Doctor will be angry with him. He doesn’t like it when the Doctor is angry with him._

_He wishes Wolf was here. But Wolf was gone._

__Gone, gone, gone _._

_What was he doing again? Oh. He was running. He didn’t like running._

_But he wasn’t running anymore. He was in his cell. It was cold. The water was broken again and it was seeping through the cracks on his wall._ Drip. Drip. Drip _. He could count the drips to pass the time away. But that was boring. His head hurt._

_Why did his head hurt?_

_Everything always hurts._

_He was tired of hurting._

_He was tired._

_He was…_

_He…_

He was awake. 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

He woke slowly. 

That was strange. He never woke slowly. He was always woken harshly and quickly. It was because the guards hated it when he made them late. He didn’t like making them late, either, because when they were late he would be punished. 

He sat up quickly, and instantly scrambled back because it was wrong. 

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong_. 

He wasn’t in his cell. Where was he? It was bright and warm and his cell was never bright or warm. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around the new cell, trying to figure out where he was. He then stopped again because it was soft. 

He looked down only to fear terror wash over him, causing his vision to tunnel. He was on a bed. _No. No. No_. He wasn’t allowed to be on a bed! Experiments were in cells! That was a rule! Why was he breaking a rule? He didn’t mean to! 

He jumped off the bed, scrambling back so quickly that he stumbled over his feet and crashed to the floor. Even the floor was soft. What was going on? 

He whimpered softly, curling up into a tight ball, wishing that he was back in his cell. His cell was safe. He knew where he was and the routine when he was in his cell. But this wasn’t his cell and he didn’t know where he was or what was going to come next. 

Where was the Doctor? The Doctor would help him. He’d be punished sure---and he shivered because he didn’t want to be punished. _Pain. Pain. Pain_.---but at least then he’d know what to expect. Because with the Doctor he was safe. Not safe from the Doctor, never safe from the Doctor, but safe from uncertainty. 

Was he making sense? No. He wasn’t making sense. How could one be safe and unsafe? 

Nothing made sense. 

Someone was knocking. Was someone knocking? _Bang. Bang. Bang_. No. No one was knocking. Someone was pounding. It was his head. His head? How could his head pound? That didn’t make sense. 

But nothing made sense and that made sense. 

Was he going crazy? 

This felt like crazy. 

Where was the Doctor? He needs the Doctor. The Doctor can fix him. The Doctor always fixes him. 

He coughed. Something was in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He was choking. He was dying. _Thud. Thud. Thud_. Was that his heart? Was that his fists? He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. 

He clawed at the too-soft ground, scrambling for purchase. He needed to breathe. Wolf always said air was important. 

Wolf? Who is Wolf? Wolf is an animal. No. Wolf is a person. No. Wolf is family. No---

He laughed, the hysteria choking him as he clawed at his head. He didn’t know what was happening to him. Was he dying? Was he dead? He couldn’t breathe. Or maybe he could. Has he been breathing this whole time? He didn’t know. 

He didn’t know anything. 

He coughed again, liquid running down his mouth and soaking the floor. He was dying. He was sure of it. This was death. 

He laid down on the floor, not caring that he was breaking a rule. What could the Doctor do to punish him if he was already dead? _Dead. Dead. Dead_. 

You can’t punish the dead. 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

Peter shot up, gasping for air. 

He shook, his body trembling as he coughed. He wasn’t sure what just happened. He was pretty sure he had a nightmare and he knows he woke up but… Everything that happened afterwards was a mystery. 

Why was he on the ground? Peter looked around only to freeze at the sight that greeted him. For a second, Peter forgot how to breathe. He was lying in something wet and cold. He looked down and choked on the air, and his eyes widened to take in the bright crimson that surrounded him. 

There wasn’t a lot, and once his tunnel vision receded, he could see clearly that it was only a few drops of blood on the ground. And yet for a second, Peter could’ve swore that he was laying in a puddle of it. 

He coughed again, wincing as the pain in his chest got worse. 

He brought his hand up to his mouth as he felt something dislodge in his throat. He winced as something wet and sticky hit his hand, and he fought back a grimace of disgust. He hated coughing up phlegm. 

He moved to stand, only to freeze once more.

It wasn’t phlegm on his hand. 

Peter shakily brought his palm up closer to his face to inspect the spatter of blood on his hand. Was that… Did he… Did he just cough up blood? 

Peter stared at it and he felt dizzy, and suddenly he wasn’t in his room but a cold cell where the wind was howling. He whipped his head around to see the stone door latched shut and he stood, the world spinning in horrible loops, as he stumbled to it. 

Just as he reached the door, his hand reaching out to curl around it, it was gone. He was holding tightly to the bathroom door and he jerked back, bile rising up in his throat at the red hand print he left behind. 

_\---Red. The snow was red. But why? Blood. Who’s blood? It was his blood, staining the snow crimson---_

Peter dry heaved and all it did was cause another cough to rip it’s way out of his throat. Blood spattered against the clean white sheets, and it looked so reminiscent of that one winter’s day… 

_\---Red. The snow was red. But why? Blood. Who’s bloo---_

“What’s happening to me?!” Peter sobbed into the empty room. 

No one answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> \- "Faster! If I catch you, you'll be sorry!"  
> \----------------  
> What's this? An early update? I suppose so. Yeah, writers block can't catch me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and check the tags if you're confused. Leave a kudos and a review please, they make me really happy. 
> 
> Next update: Er, Tuesday? Maybe Friday? At this point I don't know. But sometime within the next three days so... 
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes to Bruce with his… health issues. Later, he and Dr. Stacy talk about his episode.

Peter knocked on the door, a shaky breath escaping past his lips. Despite the episode happening yesterday, despite washing out his mouth at least twenty times, he could still taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. 

“Peter?” Bruce asked, opening the door. A smile spread across his face. “Just the man I wanted to see! Are you up for giving me those samples today?” 

Peter frowned, having completely forgotten that he promised Bruce he would give him some blood samples. It felt like a lifetime ago. “Er, yeah. I think you might need to do those tests, now.” 

Bruce instantly sobered, taking in the tense atmosphere. “What’s happened?” he asked seriously. 

“Can I… Can I come in?” Peter asked, subtly glancing down the hall just in case Tony decided to magically show up. It wouldn’t be the first time his helicopter-dad would just show up out of nowhere and be overbearing for an hour or seven. 

“Yes, of course. Come in.” Bruce said, opening the door and ushering him inside. “Please, have a seat.” 

Peter sat down on the chair that Bruce had pointed at. Peter squirmed in the chair, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. To be honest, he hadn’t really thought this far ahead. He figured that something was definitely wrong with him after last night, but he didn’t want to tell his parents because he knew the Starks would freak out. 

“What’s going on, Peter?” Bruce asked gently, and Peter felt so grateful that he wasn’t pressuring him. Just a simple question that Peter could choose to answer. 

“I think there might be something wrong with me.” Peter said. Bruce nodded, urging him to continue. Peter sighed. “Last night… I’m not really sure _what_ happened last night. I think… I think I disassociated?”

“Okay.” Bruce said with a nod. “That can be a common occurrence with people who suffer from PTSD---”

“No! I mean, yes, but _no_ , that’s not what I’m here to talk about.” Peter said, instantly cutting off the man before he had a chance to start spouting off treatments for his PTSD. 

Bruce frowned. “Peter, there’s nothing wrong with struggling. PTSD is a very hard thing to work through, and it’s important to talk about every setback and work through them---”

“I know,” Peter rushed out. “I have an appointment with my therapist today. I’m going to talk about it with her, I promise.”

Bruce sat back, looking appeased now that he was sure Peter wasn’t just going to pretend it never happened. “Okay, that’s good.” he said. “So how can I help you?” 

Peter winced. “It’s what happened _after_ the episode that I need your help with.” 

“Are you going to keep being vague…?” Bruce asked with a lighthearted grin. Peter smiled, but judging by the frown of Bruce’s face, it came off more like a grimace. 

“I started coughing up blood.” Peter said looking at the ground. 

“You _what?!_ ” Bruce breathed out. “Oh my god! That’s not… That’s not okay! Peter why didn’t you say something?! Has this been happening often? How long?”

“Not often. Actually that was the first time,” Peter said. “But I keep getting nosebleeds. And I get dizzy too. And really bad migraines. It only just started, though. Like a few months, maybe?” 

“I think you’re right. About the blood samples,” Bruce said with a serious tone. “That doesn’t sound… I don’t know. But I need to check that out. Do a few tests, maybe. Can I take some samples?” 

Peter nodded, holding out his arm, trying not flinch at the needle.

_“Come now, 2176. This will be faster if you sit still. I just need a little blood.”_

Peter grit his teeth. 

Everything is fine. Peter’s just being paranoid. Everything was going to be _just_ fine.

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“How have you been, Peter?” Dr. Stacy asked, a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was up in a professional bun and she was wearing a purple dress. Peter frowned and looked back at his hands. “That bad, huh?” she asked with a light tone. 

“I had an… episode yesterday.” Peter said, playing with his hands, hoping to hide their trembling.

“Oh?” she said. “What was it about? Can you walk me through what happened?” 

“I don’t really remember it,” Peter said honestly. “I stayed home from school yesterday. Migraine. Pepper and I watched the Bachelorette and then my headache got really bad so Tony suggested I try to sleep it off.” 

“Did that help?” she asked. Peter shrugged. 

“Maybe? I wasn’t exactly… lucid when I woke up.” he said. Dr. Stacy gave him an encouraging smile and Peter took in a shuddering breath before he continued. “I had a nightmare. And then I disassociated. Bad. I don’t really remember what happened.” 

“Did you get in a fight with your parents before you went to sleep?” Dr. Stacy asked. Peter shook his head with a frown. 

“That’s the thing! Here wasn’t a trigger! It just happened!” Peter cried. “And I didn’t know where or who I was for like, half an hour! Somethings wrong with me and it… it scares me.” 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you,” Dr. Stacy said. “These things happen. It is very common to experience a dissociative episode when recovering from a traumatic event.” 

“Is there… I mean, is it a cause for concern?” Peter asked wearily. Dr. Stacy smiled at him. 

“While these things aren’t ideal, as long as you are not a danger to yourself or others, these episodes are not cause for any serious concern. They are an important part of the healing process,” she said. “That doesn’t mean that they should be ignored, however.” 

“What does that mean?” he asked. Dr. Stacy stood up before walking over to the bookshelf that sat behind her desk. She hummed as her fingers slid along the spines of several books before she stopped. She pulled out a red notebook and walked back to where he sat, handing the notebook to Peter. 

“Here,” she said. “A good way to deal and work through these episodes is by writing them down.” 

Peter took the notebook dubiously, looking at her in disbelief. “You want me to… _write_ my episodes down? What’s that going to do?” 

She just smiled. “Everyone deals with their episodes in their own way. Some people find it’s easier to write them down and then pick out any important or worrying parts to talk about in a session. Others find it helpful to write them down and then burn the pages. Releasing their demons, if you will.” 

“I don’t think my dad would be very happy if I started burning things in the tower.” Peter said with a small grin. Dr. Stacy laughed. 

“You’re probably right.” she said. “Just find whatever method works best for you. Sometimes just writing them down helps. Maybe drawing. Whatever it is, as long as it helps you confront and deal with the episodes, it can also help you move forward.”

“So if I do this, I won’t have another episode?” Peter asked. Dr. Stacy shook her head. 

“Healing doesn’t work like that,” she said. “It’s going to take time. This is just a tool to help you better prepare yourself for future episodes.” 

“I don’t understand why this is happening.” Peter said bitterly. “I thought I was getting better.” 

“Oh, Peter,” Dr. Stacy said softly. “You are getting better. This is progress. It means that you’re starting to move forward. Confronting and dealing with your traumatic past is always the hardest part of healing, but these episodes show that you’re beginning to do just that. It will take time and patience, but I promise you that it is going to get easier. It all depends on you.” 

Peter tried not to cringe at the very therapist-esque answer that he received. But it was true, and Dr. Stacy has done a very good job of explaining it to him. He understood that the episode (or episodes, if what Dr. Stacy was saying was true) were a part of healing. 

But damn, if he didn’t hate them anyway. 

“Thanks, Doc.” Peter said. 

Dr. Stacy smiled. “Sure thing, Peter.” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“Hey honey,” Pepper said, smiling at him as he entered the kitchen. “How was therapy?” 

“Pretty good,” Peter said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to get a drink. “I have a notebook now. I’m supposed to write my feelings in it. I guess it’s gonna help or something.” 

Tony walked in then, ruffling Peter’s hair before he pressed a chaste kiss to Pepper’s lips. “You got the feeling journal? Nice. I remember doing that,” he said. “Good times.” 

“Did it help?” Peter asked, eyeing the red notebook with distrust. 

“Oh yeah. Big time.” Tony said. He felt a little bad lying to Peter, but who’s to say it didn’t work? Tony was sure it would’ve worked for him if he’d actually written in it. But he wasn’t going to tell Peter that. It might actually work for Peter, and Tony didn’t want to take away a chance for Peter to express his emotions in a healthy manner. (The last thing he needed was Peter following in Tony’s footsteps. He was already a superhero, he didn’t want anymore of his ugly traits to pass down to him.) 

“Oh. Okay.” Peter said, looking at the notebook once more before shrugging. “If you say so.” 

“Well dinner will be done shortly,” Pepper said. “Why don’t you go and write in the feeling journal for a little while and I’ll call you down when it’s time to eat?”

“Yeah, okay.” Peter said. He grabbed the notebook and walked back to his room. The second he entered he felt his heart speed up. 

He had cleaned up the blood from the previous night, but knowing that it was there in the first place still made Peter anxious. Peter jumped when he heard someone clear their throat from behind him. He spun around to see Bruce. 

“Bruce! You scared me! Sorry, was I standing here long---”

“Peter we need to talk.” he said. Peter felt weary, instantly taking note of his serious demeanor. 

“What is it? What’s going on?” he asked. Bruce sighed, a dejected look resting on his face. “Bruce what’s wrong? Come on, you’re scaring me.” he said as a joke, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. 

“Peter…” he said softly, and Peter didn’t like this. Something was wrong.

“Just lay it on me.” he said firmly. “Is it the samples? Did you run the tests?” 

Bruce nodded. “That’s the problem.” he said. 

“Problem?” Peter asked, tilting his head, as his heart rate began to rise. 

“Your test results...Peter it’s really bad.” Bruce says, his voice dark. 

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, his heart pounding against his chest. 

“Peter your cells...they’re deteriorating.” Bruce said. Peter felt himself _freeze_. “If I didn't know any better I’d say every single one of your cells are simultaneously starting the process of apoptosis.” 

Peter was silent because he was a chemist. Peter was silent because he aced biology and was planning on taking it in college as a minor. Peter froze because he _knew_. Peter froze because he _knew_ what that meant. 

“What are you saying? That I'm... I’m _dying_?”

Bruce is silent for a minute before he speaks. 

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Yikes.   
> (Also, I just want to say that all of the things that Dr. Stacy says are fictional. I have no idea how to properly deal with serious mental illnesses like PTSD, so if you are struggling with that, please don't take my words to heart, see an actual therapist, because everything written here is to further the plot)   
> Thanks so much for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a review! 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe everyone! <3


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter struggles with the new information he’s received. He doesn’t want to tell anyone. How does Peter deal with stress? In the worst way possible, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: introspective thoughts of death**

Peter ignored Bruce after that. 

He didn’t mean to---well, he sort of did. (He definitely did)---he just didn't want to sit around and listen to him attempt to guilt him into telling his parents. It wasn’t hard to convince Bruce to keep his mouth shut. All he had to do was bring up doctor-patient confidentiality, flash a few tears and a well-timed, ‘ _I’m dying Bruce. Let me process this first, please_.’ and the kind-hearted doctor pledged his silence. 

Afterwards, he trekked up to the roof, sitting comfortably on the roof’s edge and looked up at the stars. 

It’s funny, to be honest. Hysterical, really. He’s dying. He’s going to die after he just started to live. Ironic, isn’t it? 

It was so funny it made him laugh to himself under the blanket of stars. 

It’s fascinating, really. 

The light from the stars are actually lies. The light isn’t real. Not really. It takes eight minutes and twenty seconds for the light from the Sun to hit Earth and be registered in your eyes. Stars that are farther from the Earth than the sun take even longer. The light you see is nothing more than a projection of the past. 

The likelihood that the star you’re looking at is still there is next to none. So every time you look up at the stars, there is nothing but a sky full of ghosts. They’re there but not really. They’re nothing more than the projected image of a star's dying power. A last wish. A last ditch effort to show the world that the star existed. 

A sky full of ghosts.

Beautiful and morbid. 

“Is that me?” Peter mused, a single tear sliding down his face. “Am I a ghost too, now?” 

Peter sat there in the cold, not noticing when his hands began to go numb. He couldn’t tell the difference between the physical numbness and the mental one. Perhaps this would be a good thing to write in his feelings journal? 

Not like it matters, anyway. He’s going to die anyway, so what’s the point in trying to fix him? 

“Guess you were right, Dad,” Peter said, choking on a sob. (Or was it a laugh?) “I’m not broken.”

And he wasn’t. Peter wasn’t broken. He was shattered. 

There had to be something of him left to be broken, and he was going to die. There wasn’t going to be anything left soon. 

And wasn’t that a depressing thought? 

“Hey.” 

Peter did not react to the sudden voice behind him. Did not acknowledge the man, even when he sat down next to him. He merely stared up into the sky of ghosts, blinking at the bright lights and morbid thoughts circling inside his head. 

Wolf didn’t say anything else, and Peter was grateful. And together they sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company for a few minutes. 

What finally broke the silence was Peter’s stomach growling loudly. Peter blinked, the spell-bound lethargy breaking and he looked down at his stomach with a chuckle. “I guess I’m hungry,” he said, looking up at Wolf with a smile. “Is dinner ready?” 

Peter didn’t know what his face looked like, but it seemed to upset Wolf because he paused for a second before answering. “Yes.” he said gruffly. “I was sent to come and get you.” 

“Cool,” Peter said, standing up and brushing himself off. “Let’s go eat then.” Peter began walking inside. He made it all the way to the door before Wolf spoke once more. 

“Why are you out here?” he asked. Peter’s hand curled around the handle tightly before he pulled the door open. He flashed another smile at Wolf. 

“The stars are beautiful, don’t you think?” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

Bruce cornered him after dinner, an anxious look resting on his face. “Have you told them, yet?” he asked. Peter tilted his head. 

“If I did, do you think we would’ve been talking about sports over dinner?” Peter asked. Bruce blinked before he smiled slightly. It was tense. 

“Got me there,” he said with a forced chuckle. “When will you? Tell them, I mean.” 

Peter shrugged. “Dunno.” he said honestly. “When I actually get my head around it, I suppose.”

Bruce frowned. “Peter, this is serious. This isn’t something you should be keeping from them. You need support. Now more than ever.” 

“I know,” Peter said. “I just… I just need time. Please, I just need time.” 

Bruce’s expression softened and he nodded. He stepped forward and Peter leaned into the hug. He was slightly surprised at the show of affection from the man, as they had never been all that close, but Peter accepted it nonetheless. 

He was dying after all. 

“Okay,” Bruce said after a moment, pulling away from the embrace. “I’m here for you, but I still think you should tell someone. Your therapist, maybe?” 

Peter nodded, despite knowing he wasn’t going to tell Dr. Stacy, he didn’t want Bruce to worry about him anymore than he had to. Bruce smiled at him once more before walking away, and Peter pretended (for both their sakes) that he didn’t throw a cautious glance over his shoulder as he left. 

Peter walked absentmindedly to his bedroom, taking it in like it was the first time. No. Perhaps the ‘first time’ wasn’t the best analogy for this. The first time Peter had been here, he was in denial about who he really was. 

In hindsight, Peter really regretted the way he treated Pepper and Tony---his mom and dad---if he had known how much time he really had, maybe it would’ve been different. 

Peter shook his head, clearing the thoughts, and entered his room. For what felt like the first time, he titled his head and took in the room. It was a nice room, beautiful really. The amount of care and effort that his parents had put into the room really shone through. It was nice. It made Peter feel more comfortable. He felt at home. 

How funny. 

He finally has a home and now he’s going to die. 

Peter let himself fall against his bed, stifling a giggle when he bounced up and down. When was the last time he’d jumped on the bed? Not since he was a child, surely. But for some reason he was overcome with the urge to do it. To do something childish. 

Peter jumped on the bed, humming the tune of the monkey song in his head while he did it. The song was morbid too---if you really thought about it. Kind of like ‘It’s Raining, It’s Pouring’. If Peter really thought about it, almost every single nursery rhyme was about death. 

Peter sighed and sank into his cushions, now messed up from his bouncing, and fought back the urge to cry. 

Peter didn’t want to die. 

It was all so unfair. Why was it him? Why was it _always_ him? Sometimes (Read: _Always_ ) Peter wished he was just a normal boy. He was never kidnapped, never experimented on, never lost then found. Just him. Just Peter. 

He wonders, though, if he would’ve died anyway. 

Would it have been worse to die as Just Peter? 

(It would. Because Just Peter would never be used to the shitty hand that he always seemed to be dealt.)

Peter sighed and opened his eyes, unable to recall when he shut them. 

“I’m going out as Spider-Man.” he said suddenly. He was only mildly surprised that that had come out of his mouth. It made sense, in a strangely comforting way, that he would go out as Spider-Man now. 

Spider-Man wasn’t just his coping mechanism, he was also a superhero. And they saved people. 

Peter wanted his time on this planet to mean something, however little time he had left. The only way he could see that happening, was if he went out as Spider-Man and saved some lives. 

(If he went out and pretended like he wasn't going out there because the only life he _wanted_ to save, he couldn’t.) 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

Peter ducked, avoiding the fist that had seemingly come out of nowhere. 

It was his own fault, really. What was Peter expecting when he went out in the state he was in? Of course he’d be off his game, but he didn’t expect to be out of it _this_ much. 

The criminal had cornered him when he wasn’t paying attention. He’d been helping a nice old lady cross the street when he’d suddenly been pulled into a dark alley. (How cliche) and a group of thugs cornered him. They started off on their villain monologue (Even more cliche) and to be honest, Peter was too tired to get quippy, and instead decided to just punch the biggest one in the face. 

So yeah. It was his bad. 

“You’re going to get it so bad!” the criminal hissed. The other few thugs had been taken care of already, webbed up nice and tight to the wall for the police to collect, but for some reason Peter just couldn’t down the biggest one. 

“Can you please just stop?” Peter whined, exhaustion slipping into his tone. “I just want to go to sleep. Can’t you just give up and call it a night?” 

The criminal sneered. “As if!” he then lunged forward. Peter’s sense warned him too late, and Peter cried out at the slicing pain in his side. Peter grit his teeth and tugged the knife out of his side, too exhausted to care about the blood loss. 

“That’s it!” he snapped. Peter webbed the man’s hands and tugged as hard as he could, sending the criminal flying. He smashed into the wall and Peter didn't even flinch at the pained groan, merely webbed him to the wall and called the police. 

Peter hissed at the pain as he climbed up the roof. He shot a web at the wound, staunching the blood flow for now, and moved to web back to the tower where he could---hopefully---pretend he was never injured in the first place. 

It didn’t work. 

Reason being: One very _angry_ and very _protective_ Iron Man standing in front of him. 

(He didn’t even need to see the man’s face to see how pissed off he was)

“Hey underoos.” he said. “What are you doing out here? I thought you agreed not to do this without telling anyone.” 

Peter shrugged, hoping to keep the man from seeing his stab wound. “Just blowing off some steam.” he said. 

“Just _blowing off some steam_?” the man parroted. Peter cringed at the barely concealed fury in his tone. “Ah. I see. Well that makes it better. And the stab wound? I assume you were planning on heading home and getting that checked out, right?” 

Shit. “Of course,” Peter lied through grit teeth. “I wouldn’t hide this.” 

“Right.” Peter could hear the man’s raised eyebrow and it made Peter look at the ground guiltily. The man sighed. “Look, I’m not angry.” 

“You’re not?” Peter asked skeptically. 

“Well I am mad, but I’m more worried.” he said, stepping forward. “You haven’t snuck out in months. You’ve been really good about talking to us and working through things that upset you instead of running away. What’s going on with you, Peter? Is there something wrong? Do you need to talk about something?” 

“I…” Peter freezes, his words dying in the back of his throat. Tony steps forward even more, his arm outstretched to Peter. 

“What’s going on with you, Peter?” Tony asks, his voice full of concern. Now would be the perfect time to tell him. But Peter couldn’t do it. How do you tell your Dad who _just_ got his son back that he was dying?

You don’t. 

So Peter didn’t. 

“Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!! If you liked this leave a kudos and a review, they always make my day!!!! <3
> 
> Next Update: Friday
> 
> Stay safe out there! :)


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hid it for as long as he could, but with his condition worsening, it’s time to tell the truth

Peter winced as another cough tore through his throat. It was getting worse. The headache that he’d been nursing for the past two days had steadily gotten more and more painful. Peter had already taken his weight in ibuprofen, and it had done absolutely nothing for him. He had considered going to Bruce and asking for some heavy duty pain killers, but quickly dismissed the idea when he realized that would make Bruce pressure him into telling his parents. 

It had only been a day since his diagnosis, and according to Bruce, the stab wound merely sped up the process. Peter had avoided the man’s disappointed gaze when he entered the med bay. Peter could tell he wanted to say something about his health to Tony, but Peter quickly interrupted him before he could reveal too much. (To the chagrin of Bruce.) 

Peter was now sitting in the med bay, waiting for Bruce to release him. Peter had somehow managed to convince Tony and Pepper to leave the med bay---he used work against them---and he was now alone in the room. 

Save for Bruce. 

(He wasn’t happy that Peter was avoiding him.)

“Peter.” he said again, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Peter tensed, and then quickly untensed at the pain it caused. 

“Bruce please,” Peter said, finally turning his head to look at the weary doctor. Peter winced at the guilt that flashed through them at the sight of the exhausted doctor. Bruce seemed to age right in front of his eyes. “I’ll tell them, I promise. I just need more time.” 

“Peter, this is my fault.” the man said, gesturing to the bandages wrapped around Peter’s abdomen. The stab wound had luckily missed all the vital organs, yet it was still a worrying injury based on its location. “I should have told your parents immediately. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve known you’d pull something like this---”

Peter bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t mean it like that,” Bruce’s eyes softened and Peter felt guilty for snapping at him. “This is a serious diagnosis. These kinds of things… It’s very common that people do something rash after hearing this type of news. I should’ve been more careful. Especially because you’re a teenager who is used to doing things on your own.” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, looking at the ground. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I just wanted to clear my head. My spidey sense---”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Peter… are your powers being affected?” 

Peter shrugged. “I think so… Why? Is it important?”

“Yes!” Bruce cried. “That means that there is more to this than we thought.” 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, tilting his head. 

“Peter, whatever you have, it’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Do you think people dying of simultaneous apoptosis is common? It’s unheard of! If your powers are being affected, then that means the sickness is correlated with your powers!” Bruce said. “We need to do some more tests.”

“I don’t understand,” Peter said, cutting off the overexcited doctor. “Does that mean you can cure me?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know.” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

It took a lot of convincing, but Peter was finally able to get released from the med bay. He happily made his way to the living room where everyone was watching Clint and Natasha play Mario Kart, and sat down next to Tony. 

“Hey guys,” he said, startling them. “Guess who’s finally out of bed rest!”

“Peter!” Tony cried, a smile spreading across his face before he scowled. “Did you get released? Bruce was supposed to come get me…”

“I got released. I just didn’t want to interrupt.” Peter said. “Bruce is just running some tests.” 

“Tests? On what?” Pepper asked. Peter froze. 

Whoops. “Just… tests. I don’t know.” Peter lied, ignoring the raised eyebrow Natasha threw his way. Peter refused to acknowledge it. 

“Okay, well I’ll just talk to Bruce about it later,” Tony said and Peter remained silent. There was no way he could convince Tony not to talk to Bruce without being suspicious. Hopefully Bruce will respect Peter’s wishes and keep quiet. “By the way, Pete? You are grounded.” 

Peter groaned. “I figured.”

“What did you expect? You snuck out---again. You got injured---again.” Tony said. “Would you have told us you were hurt if I hadn’t found you?” 

“How _did_ you find me, by the way?” Peter asked, purposefully ignoring the question. “Did you put, like, a tracker in my suit or something?”

“Or something.” Tony said. Peter frowned, taking that as a yes to the tracker. Damn. He’d have to find a way to get rid of that before it became a problem. 

“So, does this mean I can’t sleep over at Ned’s this weekend?” Peter asked. Tony opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when a harsh cough ripped its way out of Peter’s mouth. Peter doubled over, a hand automatically reaching for his side while he coughed. 

“You okay, Pete?” Tony asked, and Peter could see him debate coming over to help him out of the corner of his eye. “Do you want some water?” 

Peter nodded and he quickly left to get him a glass. His headache spiked and Peter grimaced. It felt like someone was ripping his head apart! A glass of water was shoved into his field of view, and Peter took it graciously. 

Peter drank down half the cup at once, and heaved in a breath. Finally the coughing fit subsided, and Peter was left with a sore side and agonizing headache. Peter winced and closed his eyes for a second before opening them again to see a concerned Tony staring at him. 

“You good?” he asked. “Do I need to call Bruce---”

“No, no,” Peter said quickly. “I’m okay. Just a little cough is all.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Peter said, standing to his feet. He blinked at the sudden wave of vertigo that hit him. He held the couch to steady him, and he prayed that no one saw his slight sway. “I am a little hungry, though.” 

“What are you hungry for? I’m in the mood for burgers. Burgers?” Tony asked, looking around at everyone else. “You guys cool with burgers?” 

Peter nodded and hissed as his headache spiked again. “Burgers sound good.” Peter said, ignoring Natasha’s burning gaze once more. 

“Peter, what’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the controller. Tony flipped his head back to look at him. Peter wasn’t sure what he looked like right now, but judging on the sudden paling of Tony’s face, it wasn’t great.

“Nothing,” Peter said. “I’m fin---” another cough escaped him. This one was wet and painful. He choked on the liquid for a second before he spat out blood into his hands. “I’m fine.” 

Tony looked horrified. “Oh my god! Peter you---” by now, the rest of the Avengers were standing up and approaching him with care. 

Another wave of dizziness hit him and Peter swayed dangerously close to the ground. “PETER-----”

Peter was unconscious before he hit the floor. 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“What the _fuck_ Banner!” Tony snarled. Bruce, to his credit, only lightly flinched at the venom in his friend’s voice. “How could you not tell me?! That’s my _kid_!!!”

“I’m sorry Tony,” Bruce said softly. “I was respecting his wishes. I wish I had told you, and I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long.” 

“You’re _sorry_? Well I hope so! Peter is---” Tony cut himself off, anger bleeding out of him quickly. _Dying_. His son is dying. 

“What do you know, Bruce?” Pepper asked when it became obvious that Tony had lost his voice. Her voice trembled and her grip on Tony’s hands tightened. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know a lot.” he said with a tired sigh. “From what I was able to see, Peter’s cells are deteriorating all at once.”

“Cells don’t just _do_ that.” Tony scoffed. “Why? What’s the cause?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“How can you not know?!” 

“Tony, yelling at him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Pepper scolded. “We need to be calm. For Peter’s sake.” Tony visibly deflated against his wife, and he shot a nervous glance back at Peter. 

It was the second time today that Peter was in the med bay. Tony grit his teeth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Peter was supposed to outlive him. Tony could feel himself start to shut down. His baby was dying. His baby was dying. 

(Not again. Not this. Not again, please, he couldn’t do this again.) 

“Tell me everything.” Tony commanded. “Don’t leave a single thing out.”

Peter was dying and Tony refused to just sit back and watch it happen. He was going to do something about this. He refused to let his son go. 

He won’t let him go. 

He just won’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!!!! Leave a kudos and a review please!!! :))) <3
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s confined to bed rest and the Avengers have a new mission.

“You are a stupid child.” Wolf said, sitting on the chair next to Peter’s bed, a heavy scowl set deep into his face. Peter chuckled. 

“Good to see you too.” he said. Wolf’s frown only deepened. 

“How could you not say anything?” he demanded. “How could you keep us in the dark about this?”

“Not like you can do anything.” Peter shrugged. Wolf snarled and it reminded Peter of the time he came up with his nickname. It sounded almost identical to the snarl he made at those idiot agents. 

“We are going to fix you.” Wolf said, not a hint of doubt in his voice. “You don’t get to die.”

“Is that an order?” Peter teased, hoping to make light of the situation. 

Wolf narrowed his eyes. “Yes.” 

They sat in silence for a little while after that. The only noise coming from the curtains as they billowed against the light breeze. Peter had convinced Bruce to crack open the window just a little bit, claiming it was stuffy in the room. 

Peter was officially on bed rest for the next foreseeable ever. Peter wanted to fight against it, but one look at Tony’s face stopped him. Peter felt his chest clench with guilt. He was barely hanging on. The man had thrown himself into his research, frantically searching for a way to help him. He also refused to leave Peter’s bedside. Peter had begun to find comfort in the spatic clicking of the keyboard as Tony worked. 

It was actually pretty strange for Peter to be alone. 

Well, without Tony. 

(He was never alone, now. Someone was always with him and it made him want to tear his hair out.)

Tony had suddenly, and without warning, left the room. He pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple and told him he’d be back later and then exited the med bay. He’d done it just as Peter was about to fall asleep, and when he opened his eyes again, Wolf was already in the room. Peter didn’t know how much time had passed since his Dad had left, but judging by the sunlight, it’d been a couple of hours. 

“Where is everyone?” Peter finally asked when the silence became unbearable. 

“Away.” 

“But where?” Peter asked. Wolf crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair. 

“In a meeting.” he said. Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“What kind of meeting?” he asked. 

“Avengers meeting.” Wolf said. “They’ll be back later.”

“Bet Tony loved that.” Peter scoffed. Wolf smirked. 

“He threatened to kill Fury four times on his way out of the tower,” he said. “It was very entertaining.” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“Why am I here?” Tony demanded, slamming his hand on the table. The other Avengers appeared to be just as angry as him. “This better be good or so help me I will lock every single S.H.I.E.L.D computer and change the passwords so you can’t bother me again!” 

“Sit down, Stark.” Fury said, his arms crossed as he looked at the man with annoyance. “The sooner you cooperate, the sooner this will be over.” 

Tony huffed but sank into the chair. “Why did you call us here?” he demanded once more. 

“Because Hydra needs to be taken care of.” Fury said. 

“I thought you said the Avengers couldn’t help with that?” Steve asked, looking at Fury in confusion. 

“The Avengers can’t help with Hydra’s interference, yes,” Fury said. Tony scoffed, opening his mouth to yell at the man for calling him away from his son for no reason when Fury continued. “But the Avengers _can_ help with the New Experiment.” 

“The what?” Clint asked. 

“Our intel picked up a secret transmission from a Hydra base in Australia.” Fury said. “We decoded it and found out that there is a new experiment. Your mission is to go to Australia, destroy the base, and recover the experiment.” 

“What kind of experiment?” Natasha asked, picking up the folder with the mission report in it. “Why is it important?” 

“The experiment is called ‘The White Spider’,” Fury said. “Otherwise known as, Experiment 2177.”

At this, everyone in the room froze. Tony felt his insides clench because he knew exactly what Fury was saying. Hydra started another experiment. A new subject. 

A new Peter. 

“When do we leave?” Steve asked, standing up. 

“Now.” Steve nodded, and the team stood, moving towards the door. Tony stayed rooted to the chair. Fury raised an eyebrow at him. “Stark?” 

“I’m not going.” he said. The team stopped. 

“Excuse me?” Fury demanded, uncrossing his arms and moving them so that they rested at his hips. 

“I’m not going.” Tony said again. “I need to stay here. With my family.” 

“You _need_ to go on this mission---”

“Let him stay.” Steve said, nodding at Tony. Tony sent him a thankful glance. “We can do this one without him. Let him stay with Peter.” 

Fury gave him one last look before sighing loudly and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Whatever. Just get it done.” 

Steve nodded. 

“Will do, sir.” 

.

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.

.

.

XX  
x

“This is fucking creepy.” Clint whispered into the comms. “There’s no one here.” 

“Clint. Focus.” Steve said, silencing the archer. But it didn’t matter. Clint was only voicing what everyone was thinking. 

When they arrived in Australia, the base was completely empty. There was nothing and no one around. They entered together, the team splitting up to scope out the base, only to find nothing. The base appeared to be deserted. 

“They knew we were coming.” Natasha said, looking at the burnt file room. It looked like they had taken a flamethrower to every important room, destroying all the evidence and information that they were looking for. 

“How?” Clint asked. 

“I don’t know.” Natasha said, toeing through the ashes to see if anything survived. 

“I’m not finding any evidence of someone living here.” Steve said. “It looks like this place was used to hold weapons.” 

“Any weapons left, Cap?” Clint asked. 

Steve shook his head. “No. Nothing.” he said, closing the door to another empty gun cabinet. “It looks like they cleaned the house.”

“For us? They shouldn’t have. We don’t care about the mess,” Clint said with a shit-eating grin. “They should see the tower.” 

“What would an experiment be doing here?” Steve asked. “This is a weapons facility. Not a…” 

“Cap, they consider successful experiments as weapons.” Natasha said. A grim silence followed. 

Steve stared at the cabinet doors for a second, fighting a wave of revulsion. Hydra seemed to get more and more inhumane every day. “Do you think it’s a person?” Steve asked. 

“Probably.” 

“Do you think they’re, ah, _willing_ participants?” 

“Probably not.” 

Steve grimaced. “Do you think they’re like Peter?” 

“What do you mean?” Clint asked. 

“Like, they were kidnapped from a home?” Steve clarified. “What if they’re just a kid? With a home?” 

“Steve…” Natasha said slowly. 

“We would be able to get them back home, right?” Steve asked. 

“It’s not that simple.” Natasha said. “Peter… Peter was different because he escaped. All the conditioning and trauma wore off in the repressed memories. When it started coming back, we already knew who he was and who his family is and we were able to get him help.” 

“So why can’t we do the same here?” Steve asked. 

“We don’t know how long they’ve been here,” Natasha said. “How deep the conditioning goes. If it’s anything like Peter…” 

“We’re going to do what we can for the experiment.” Clint said. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up. It’ll probably be messy.”

Steve sighed. “I know.” he turned away from the cabinet. “Natasha, anything survive the fire?” 

Natasha bent down, brushing through the ashes and soot and overturned furniture. “It doesn’t look like it…” she said with a sigh. “They cleaned up pretty well---” 

She stopped as her finger brushed the edge of a folder. “Wait, I’ve got something.” she said, lifting up the folder. 

“What is it?” Steve asked. 

Natasha eyes the folder. It was tattered and torn and a part of the end was burnt from Hydra’s attempt to get rid of it but it was otherwise intact. In bright red lettering lay the ominous words _Experiment 2176--Dr. Zemo_.

She sucked in a harsh breath. “Something bad.” she said. “Or good, depending on the way you look at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH!! I'm so excited!!! Finally the plot is showing up!!!!!! Get ready guys!!! Thanks so much for reading, please leave a kudos and a review!! <3
> 
> Next Update: Friday
> 
> Stay safe


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The folder has the answers they’ve been looking for. And with it, bitter sweet news.

_Experiment 2176---Dr. Zemo_

_-Enhancement serum [dormant]. Inject into blood stream every six hours until the serum has been accepted._

_-Components: Hydro****** Sulf****** Carbon-Based by Vin****** ReGrowth and Super Serum bioengineered with iodized Bel******._

_Subject A: response to serum four hours after injection [Subject Deceased]  
Subject B: response to serum seven hours after injection [Subject Deceased]  
Subject C: response to serum nine hours after injection [Subject Deceased]  
Subject D: response to serum twelve hours after injection [All functions in working condition]_

_Subject D accepted serum and remained stable. Subject moved to Phase Two Development. Twenty-Four Hour Watch ended at 21:04._

_Subject D (RE: Experiment 2176) is a success._

_Serum will remain dormant in blood cells until exposed to a radioactive reactant. Reactant will trigger a mutation and the serum will infect all cells in subject’s body. **DANGER** : DO NOT EXPOSE TO RADIATION WITHOUT CONDITIONING. _

_Side effects: Forty-Seven hours after injections [Subject’s body began to reject serum]  
Cause: The base cells attacked foreign serum cells, causing Subject’s body to shut down. Bleeding from internal organs began an hour after rejection. Organ failure immediately in Seventy-Two hours. _

_Cure: Blood Stabilizer neutralized white blood cells and forced the serum to go dormant.  
Trial Two: Added compound in serum delays body’s attack from Seventy-Two to Two Hundred Hours._

_\--- **Added Conditioning: Shuts down PCTR1 Molecule [White Blood cells cannot attack]**_ \---

Tony hissed and threw the folder onto the table, rage flowing through him. “That sick bastard.” he snarled. “He… He…” 

“I don’t understand,” May said. “What does that mean?” 

“Basically, Peter’s body is attacking itself to get rid of what it thinks is a virus,” Bruce explained. “But because the ‘virus’ is his cells, the body is starting to shut down.” 

“It says that it starts from a reactant,” Pepper said, a frown marring her features. “Wouldn’t he have gotten sick after the spider-bite?” 

“It says that the conditioning prevented it,” Bruce said. “The conditioning stopped Peter’s body from making the proper number of PCTR1 Molecules---a molecule that helps white blood cells kill bacteria. My guess is the conditioning stopped him from getting sick.” 

“But the conditioning wore off years ago,” May cut in. “Didn’t it?” 

“It was repressed,” Bruce said with a sigh. “Along with all of his memories of that place. And since he hadn’t come into contact with a reactant, his body wasn’t in danger.” 

“So when he was exposed…?” Tony asked. 

“Peter did say that his memories of before started popping up after his bite,” Bruce said. “My guess is that when he was exposed to the reactant, his conditioning started to push through to stop the sickness, and in doing so, brought back all of Peter’s repressed memories.”

“So why isn’t his conditioning saving him now?” Pepper demanded. 

“Because he’s working through it,” Bruce said. “He’s been going to therapy and losing his conditioning with every session. His brain has started to produce the molecules and his body has just registered the serum as a threat.”

“So how do we stop it?” Tony asked. 

“I need to do some research,” Bruce said. “The components have been redacted but I think there’s enough here for me to figure out the serum. Maybe I can find a way to stabilize it.” 

“It said there was a stabilizer,” Pepper pointed out. “Maybe we need that.” 

“Hopefully I can figure out what it is.” Bruce said. “But this information is just what we needed. We’re a step closer to saving him.”

“Save my son, Bruce.” Tony said, looking at his friend with a serious expression. “I can’t lose him.” 

“You won’t.” Bruce promised. “We’ll save him, together.” 

.

.

.

.

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XX  
x

Peter groaned, his head laying against the headboard in complete, and utter boredom. There was nothing to do and Peter was going insane. He wanted to get up and do something---anything---to ease the isolation that was creeping up on him. 

Beside him, Clint looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, Pete?” he asked. “You feeling okay?”

For some reason, that just made Peter even more irritated. Like the only reason he would make a sound of discontentment was because he was in pain. “I’m fine.” he bit out. “Just, you know, going insane.”

“Okay, what’s with the dramatics?” he asked, setting the book down on the chair next to him.

“I have been stuck in this bed for the past three days!” Peter cried. “I’m going insane Clint, _insane_. Please, can I leave? Just for like, a walk or something! I can’t stand it here!”

Clint chuckled. “You really are Tony’s kid, you know that?” 

Peter was not amused. “Don’t patronize me!” Peter whined. “Come on, Clint. I feel great! No headache, no nose bleeds, and I haven’t been coughing either! Let’s go play baseball or something! Please?”

“I can’t let you out of here, Pete, you know that,” Clint said, and Peter groaned even louder, letting his head fall back against the wall with a loud thunk. “If I did, your dad would kill me. You gotta get the okay from Bruce.”

“Well, where’s Bruce?” Peter asked. Clint’s jaw clenched and Peter frowned at the odd expression that passed over his face. “Clint?”

“He’s talking with your parents right now.” he said tersely. 

Peter sat up, a confused frown setting deeper into his face. “What’s going on?” he asked. Clint shook his head and Peter narrowed his eyes. “Clint, what is it? What’s going on?” 

Clint sighed. “It’s nothing Pete, don’t worry about it.”

“But---”

“What you should be worrying about, is where the hell Barnes went,” Clint continued. “I sent him to get us some Starbucks an hour ago!”

Peter groaned. “You _didn’t_. Clint! The last time Wolf was in a Starbucks he made the barista _cry_! He doesn’t know how to order things!”

Clint burst out laughing, doubling over to clutch at his sides. “Is that why he came back to the tower covered in coffee? Did he get _punch-dumped_?!” 

Peter giggled. “I don’t know what that means, but probably.” Peter winced as his chest twinged, but he didn’t cough. This sucked. 

Clint seemed to pick up on Peter’s downtrodden mood because he sighed. “It’s going to be okay, Peter.” he said. 

“How do _you_ know that?” Peter asked bitterly, picking at the fuzz on the fleece blanket covering his legs. “No one knows what’s wrong with me.”

“Peter there is nothing _wrong_ with you---”

“I’m dying.” Peter deadpanned. Clint winced.

“You’re not going to die.” he said firmly. “Bruce and your dad are on it. They’re, like, the smartest people in the world. I promise you’re going to be fine, Pete.”

Peter just sighed and leaned back into his bed, shifting sadly so that his gaze could flit out the open window at the birds darting back and forth. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

.

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XX  
x

“Bruce is going through the data,” Tony said with a weary sigh, slumping into the empty chair next to Pepper. He smiled gratefully at her when she handed him a mug of black coffee. “We won’t know anything until tomorrow.”

“That’s good, right?” May asked nervously, twisting her hands together. “He’s going to find something?” 

“It’s… It’s complicated.” Tony said. “The information in that folder was helpful but…”

“It didn’t have all the answers, did it?” May asked. Tony shook his head mournfully. “Is he going to die, Tony? Is our baby going to die?”

Tony’s breath hitched in the back of his throat. “I don’t know.” he said softly, leaning into his wife for support. Her hand reached to connect with Tony’s and he squeezed the trembling fingers. 

“Maybe we don’t have all the information.” Pepper says hopefully, her hands trembling. “Maybe there is a way to stop it. The folder said that every outburst was treated. Maybe we just need to find out how.” 

“To do that we would need more information from Hydra. The only way to get that information is from Zemo. And he’s dead.” Tony said numbly. 

The silence threatened to choke him, but nothing could compare to the icy fingers of grief squeezing his throat. 

“I killed the only person who could save our son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! It's really starting to pick up now! Please leave a kudos and a review they make my day! 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has another nightmare about his worsening condition. The Avengers have a new mission.

Peter was trying to sleep, but he was finding it very difficult. Even if he were sleeping in his own bed (which he wasn’t as, according to his overprotective parents and doctor, he wasn’t allowed to leave the med-bay) Peter doubted he would be able to sleep. Not with the ominous sense of despair looming over him. 

Peter had no idea what was going on with everybody, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Peter could tell that it was weighing on them. Everyone in the tower kept sending him those awful, pitying glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. It put him on edge. 

They knew something. 

Something bad. 

(And they weren’t telling him. That didn’t bode well. Not one bit.)

And if the ominous presence in the tower wasn’t enough, the reaction his parents and Aunt were having around him was worse. They stared at him like it was the last time they’d ever get to see him. (Which, based on the way his health was declining, it very well might.) 

Today, his mom came into the med bay and sat next to him and taught him how to knit. He made a pretty scraggly scarf, but Pepper looked at it like it was the best thing she’d ever seen. Peter gave it to her as a gift and her eyes watered up and she hugged him tightly, pressing soft---yet watery---kisses to the crown of his head before she let him go. She then proceeded to stare at him for a long time. 

When his dad came in to relieve Pepper of her position as ‘ _Peter Baby-Sitter_ ’, she had frowned and hugged Peter in a death-like grip (Too soon?) before walking out of the room quickly. Peter pretended he didn’t see the tears in her eyes. For both their sakes. 

Tony pulled up a chair, making sure that he was as close as possible without being in the bed with him, and proceeded to tell him about the projects he was working on. Peter appreciated the sense of normalcy it gave him, even if it was forced. 

Everything seemed to be going fine until Peter had a coughing fit. Tony had panicked, unsure of how to help while Peter bent down and coughed until a spray of red splattered against the white tiles. His dad’s face paled dramatically and he held Peter against his chest, refusing to let him go even after the coughing fit had long since subsided. 

Peter resigned himself to his hold and snuggled closer to get comfortable. After a tense five minutes, Tony relaxed and continued his stories. Peter had closed his eyes and allowed the exhaustion to pull him under, all the while Tony held him closely. 

Peter was barely conscious when Tony set him back into the bed, but was awake enough to hear the hushed sobs that escaped the man’s mouth. A part of Peter wanted to comfort him, but that part was quickly buried under the debilitating exhaustion that pulled him closer to sleep. 

He was so damned tired. 

(He didn’t want to think about what that meant.)

When the waves of oblivion receded just enough for Peter to be coherent, he heard his dad suck in a deep breath and press a kiss to his forehead before he whispered the ominous words that had kept him up ever since. 

“I’m scared,” he had said, his tone was defeated in a way that Peter had never heard before. It sent goose flesh tingling down his spine. “I can’t lose you, baby. I just got you. But I… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to save you… I’m so sorry, _bambino_ , so sorry.” 

Those words had froze him to his very core. Never had Peter heard such helplessness in his voice. It made him terrified. 

(What knowledge did he have to make him sound that way?)

It had been almost two hours since Tony had left, unaware that Peter was still awake, and Peter could not succumb to the sleep that evaded him. Peter was so tired. He was tired. He was utterly exhausted yet he couldn’t sleep. 

A part of him was terrified to sleep because he didn’t know if he would wake up. 

What had Tony meant by those words? Did he really think Peter was going to die? He had already gone through the exhausting emotions that came with dying, and Peter liked to think he was now comfortably numb to the whole thing and yet… And yet… 

And yet here he was, wide awake, heart pounding, all at the thought that he was going to die. When would it end? When would he accept what was coming and just enjoy how much time he had left? Would he ever accept it?

Peter turned onto his side, burying his face deeper into the pillow. 

He just wanted to sleep. He was too tired to wrack his brain for answers to those questions. 

And someone seemed to hear his prayer because moments later, he was blissfully unaware, drifting off into the sleep that escaped him.

_“---отвергнуть его---” the cold voice caused shivers to wrack his small frame._

_He didn’t want it… Please… He knew… He knew how it ended…_

_“Держать его.” The order was biting and he screamed in pain as the grip on his arms tightened---too tight---and forced him into the chair._

_“Нет, нет...нет, нет... - нет, нет!!” he cried, kicking his legs against it. He didn’t want the injection… please…_

_“Молчать.” he barked. His mouth clamped shut without his permission, and his arms strained while his mind fought the order._

_The needle glinted harshly against the bright lights and he eyed it with fear, a tear slipping down his face without his permission._

_“Не отвергай этого,” he said with a manic grin. “Тебе не понравятся последствия.”_

_Peter screamed._

Peter shot up, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as he fought to get his heart under control. He sucked in shuddering breaths, fighting against the rising hysteria, and curled into a ball. 

“Why?” he whispered to himself. “Why is this still happening?” 

Peter breathed in through his nose only to choke once more. He coughed out the liquid that rushed into his lungs and winced at the stained bed sheets. “Damn.” he muttered as he brought his hand up to his nose, staunching the blood flow. 

Peter rose to his feet, ignoring the shakiness of his legs, and stumbled into the bathroom. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and crumbled it up into a small ball before he stuffed it into his nose. Then he looked back at the blood stain on his sheets before letting out a regretful sigh. 

There was nothing he could do to stop his parents from finding it. 

They were _not_ going to be happy. 

Peter raked his hands through his hair with an annoyed huff, before he walked over to the chair by his bed. So much for sleeping for a while. Even if there wasn’t a fountain of blood coming out of his nose, Peter doubted he’d be able to sleep after that nightmare. 

Peter shivered, despite being hot. 

Peter tapped his fingers nervously against the arm rest, before he decided that that was only making his anxiety worse. Instead Peter bent down and pulled out his backpack from the side of the hospital bed. It had taken a while to convince Tony to let him keep it here, but Peter was grateful because at least now he’d have something to do. 

As he dug around in it for something to do, his fingers brushed against the hardcover of the journal he’d received from Dr. Stacy. After only a moment’s debate, Peter pulled the red notebook out and set in on his lap. 

He took out a pencil and opened it to the first page. Then he stared. 

What was he supposed to write? 

He settled for describing the vivid nightmare he had. His hands shook the further he got, and soon his pencil was pressing deep grooves into the paper. Peter bit his lip, tears springing into his eyes as the flashes blinded him. 

What was happening in that nightmare? 

Was it even a nightmare?

It seemed almost like a memory. The feelings he felt in them were too vivid to have been made up. And the needle looked so familiar, Peter felt the tugging of deja vu in his brain the longer he thought about it. 

The sound of ripping startled him out of his thoughts. 

Peter looked down and gasped, the notebook tumbling out of his trembling hands. 

Scrawled out in heavy penmanship over the dream, so heavy that it tore through the paper, was the word _сброс настроек_ over and over and over again. Peter lifted the paper up and tore it out, clenching his jaw when he saw the grooves in the paper underneath it. 

Why… 

With a harsh growl Peter crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the trash can. He must be really tired to be scrawling out random things in Russian. 

Maybe he should try and sleep some more. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“What is it this time, Captain Sparrow?” Tony growled, and Fury tried not to shoot the man, reminding himself that his son was in the hospital so he could have a pass on being an asshole just this once. “I have better things to do right now.” 

“The Avengers have a new mission.” Fury bit out, snapping his head to look at someone else, knowing better than to test his self control. 

“What is it?” Clint asked, leaning forward. 

“Experiment 2177 has been spotted,” Fury said, and everyone tensed. “Your new mission is simple.” 

“When is it ever?” Tony grumbled. Fury shot him a glare. 

“What is it?” Clint asked again. 

“Capture and Retrieve.” Fury said firmly. “I want that experiment. Hydra knows what it’s mission is. I think S.H.I.E.L.D should too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> \- "Reject it." the cold voice...  
> \- "Hold him." the order was...  
> \- "No, no... No, no... no, NO!!" he cried..  
> \- "Silence." he barked...   
> \- "Don't reject this," he said... "You won't like the consequences if you do."   
> \- "Reset." over and over...  
> \-----------------------------  
> Thanks so much for reading! Leave a kudos and a review! 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns a lot of things, some helpful, some… less helpful. The Avengers complete their mission and are in for a surprise.

When Peter awoke, it was to an argument. 

“---not leaving him! Find the damn thing on your own!” his dad shouted, making Peter wince. Apparently they didn’t see it, though, as they kept on fighting. 

“I’m not asking you to leave, Tony,” Steve said placatingly. “I just need your help locating it.” 

“You want me to give up on finding a cure for my _dying son_ to help you find a missing Hydra experiment?!” Tony scoffed. Peter frowned. Experiment? “Yeah right! I’m not doing it, Cap! Peter needs me!”

“And so do the Avengers!” Steve argued. “Please, Tony, this experiment… It could be another Peter… Do you really want to do that to a person?”

Peter _froze_. 

Tony seethed. “Fuck. You.” he hissed. “How dare you! I’m trying to do what’s best for my son! As a parent my first duty is to _him_ not to some Hydra experiment that we don’t know anything about---”

“There’s another experiment?” Peter cut in, giving up on his facade in favor of finding out _what the fuck_ was going on. 

Steve and Tony froze, barely concealed horror on their faces as they turned to look at him. It was obvious that this information was not supposed to reach him, making Peter all the more angry. If what they were saying was true---and judging by their frozen expressions, it was---then there was another person out there like him. 

Hydra had replaced him. 

(It made him feel sickly grateful and Peter felt nausea roar inside his gut.)

“Peter…” Tony said softly, reaching out towards him. Peter flinched away from him, a mild stab of regret hitting him at the pain in Tony’s eyes, but he was too angry, too betrayed, to care. 

“There’s another one?” he asked again, bracing his hands on the bed to push him up. “Hydra kidnapped another kid and…” Peter couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

Steve winced. “We don’t know that, Pete.” he said. “We don’t know anything. They might not have been… taken. It could be a willing participant.” 

Peter scoffed. “Yeah, as willing as me, I suppose.” he bit out. Tony flinched. “When were you going to tell me?” he asked, changing tactics. 

“Tell you?” Tony asked. 

Peter turned to face him, a scowl etched into his face. “About the kid? When were you going to tell me that someone else was taken because of _me_?” 

Tony swallowed a weird noise that came from the back of his throat and moved forward. This time, Peter let Tony pull him in for a hug, frustrated tears welling up in his eyes, but Peter refused to let them fall. 

“This is not your fault,” Tony said fiercely. “Do you understand me, Peter? _Not your fault_.” 

“Yes it is!” Peter shouted. “It is my fault! I didn’t go back to being their fucking slave so they take another one?!” 

“Peter!” Tony cried. “Watch it.” 

“No!” he yelled. “This is… this is insane! You have to see that! Hydra took someone else! They put them through what _I_ went through---” Tony and Steve flinched at that, a look of pity flashing in their eyes, and it only served to make him even angrier. “---just because I got out! And now, instead of going after them and trying to save them, you’re refusing? Because I’m dying? That’s _bullshit_!” 

Tony’s jaw clenched. “This is not your decision, Peter.” he said tersely. Peter grit his teeth. “They can handle this mission just fine without me.” 

“Obviously they can’t, or they wouldn’t be asking for your help!” Peter hissed. Steve looked between the two helplessly. 

Tony looked at him, an angry frown marring his face. “What is your _problem_ , Peter Benjamin-Edward?” he demanded. “Why are you acting like this?” 

“Why am I acting like this?! Why do you think?” Peter cried. “You’re going to stay here with me instead of helping someone in need!”

“You are my _son_! I’m not going to leave you while you’re dying, just to help someone who could be a lost cause!” Tony shouted. Peter reared back, hurt flashing across his face before a determined glare replaced it. 

“ _Lost cause_?” he parroted. Tony froze, his face paling. 

“Wait, shit, I didn’t… Peter…” 

“What about me?” he asked. Tony wordlessly opened and closed his mouth. 

“Peter… I didn’t mean…” 

“What makes me so different from the new experiment?” he asked. “The only difference is _I escaped_ and _they didn’t_.” 

“Peter, I’m so so---”

“Am I a lost cause?” he asked. Tony shook his head vehemently. Peter just scoffed. “If anyone is a lost cause, it’s me.” 

Tony sucked in a harsh breath. “Peter---”

“After all, they’re alive and breathing.” he said coldly. “And I’m a dead man walking.” 

It was silent after that, Tony staring at Peter helplessly while Peter stared daggers out the window. The tense silence remained for another five minutes---no one willing to break it and risk another tearing blow---until it was interrupted by FRIDAY reminding Peter of his therapist's appointment. 

Peter said nothing as he was escorted out of the tower to the car, merely glaring when Tony dared to comment about Peter’s health and ponder about bringing Dr. Stacy to meet him instead. He stopped, however, when he saw Peter’s venomous stare and relented. 

If Peter had to sit in that med bay room _one more second_ , Peter was going to scream.

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XX  
x

Peter was walking into the office when he heard the shouting. 

When Happy pulled up outside the building, he had given Peter a concerned glance. Peter merely waved the man off, not really in the mood to talk to anyone lest he lose it, and instead chose to walk out the car door and up to the front doors by himself. 

If Happy disagreed with that choice, he kept it to himself. 

Peter was proud of his ability to get away with it. Tony must’ve told Happy about his mood, because the gruff and lovable bodyguard/chauffeur had simply grunted a goodbye to him and drove to a parking spot. Peter hurried inside, knowing that the man would soon enter the building and wait for him in the waiting room until his session was over. 

Peter was just about to open the door to Dr. Stacy’s office when he heard the angry voice of said doctor through the door. 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. 

(He couldn’t help it.)

“I know George! I’m asking if you know anything...Okay….well it’s already been eight months! I want her back!” Dr. Stacy shouted, her voice sounding unusually desperate. “Please!” 

Peter cleared his throat, not wanting to listen in longer than he had to. Dr. Stacy seemed to realize that he was waiting for her, because she quickly said goodbye to whoever was on the other end and opened her doors, a carefully crafted smile resting on her face. 

“Peter,” she said. “Welcome.” 

“Hey doc…” Peter said, looking at her before smiling and sitting down on the couch she gestured to. “Everything okay?” he asked. 

“Hmm? Oh, yes!” she said quickly, sitting down in her usual spot. “Everything’s fine. Sorry about that.” 

“S’okay,” he shrugged. Dr. Stacy frowned. 

“You seem troubled,” she said. “Do you want to explain why?”

Peter sighed. Therapists. Why are they so damn insightful? “I got into a fight with my dad.” he said. Dr. Stacy nodded. “I thought therapy was supposed to stop that from happening.”

“Therapy is supposed to help you with your coping mechanisms, not solve all your problems.” Dr. Stacy calmly. Peter frowned. “Why don’t you explain to me what went on? Why did you fight?” 

“I found out that he was going to refuse an Avengers mission so he could stay with me,” he said. “And I got mad.” 

“Why?”

“Why? Because… because it’s not right! He shouldn’t do that!” he cried. “Someone really needs his help and he won’t do it! He’s supposed to be a superhero!”

“And you feel betrayed?” she asked. Peter bit his lip but nodded. “Why?”

“Because… he’s supposed to _help people_.” he reiterated. “And he won’t do it.” 

“Did you ever think about why he won’t do it?” she asked. Peter looked at the ground. “Peter, you’re struggling. But so are they.” 

“I know that!” Peter argued. “But they…” 

“What?” Dr. Stacy asked. Peter huffed, curling in on himself, unable to express his confusing emotions. Dr. Stacy sighed sympathetically. “Peter, you have to remember that your parents are just as human as you are. As much as you’re struggling, so are they.” 

“I just don’t understand. He could help someone who actually _needs_ it, but instead he’s wasting his time with me.” Peter said. 

Dr. Stacy raised an eyebrow. “Wasting his time?” she asked. Peter shrugged. “Why do you say that?” 

“Well, I’m dying.” he said bluntly. “I’m dying and there’s nothing he can do about it, so why waste his time when he could be doing something meaningful?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think it’s a waste of time,” Dr. Stacy said. “Spending time with you, it’s become all the more precious. Even more so, now that he knows his time with you is limited.” 

“I just don’t…” Peter trailed off. Dr. Stacy hummed before nodding.

“I understand how they feel, you know.” she said, causing Peter to look up at her in surprise. “I would give anything to spend more time with my child if I could.” 

“Your…” 

“My daughter actually...she’s your age. She was taken from me a few months ago. What I wouldn’t give to have her home safe and sound.” Dr. Stacy said softly.

Peter swallows the weird lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry.” Peter whispers. “That must be so hard.” 

Dr. Stacy lets out a soft laugh. “It is. I know what the odds are of her coming home after such a long time but...seeing you. Hearing your story. It gives me hope that maybe someday, Gwen will come home too.” 

“Do you have a picture?” Peter asks. Dr. Stacy nods and shows Peter a picture of Gwen. Peter leaned forward to see the picture of a beautiful girl with cropped blonde hair. She was smiling at the camera, a laugh stretching her smile wide. Her blue eyes twinkled with joy. 

Peter swallowed, an overwhelming sadness washing over him for a second, and a thought sprung up into his head unbidden. 

_What happened to Gwen Stacy?_

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XX  
x

“Thank you.” Steve said, a smile evident from his voice. 

“Shut up.” Tony snapped, a scowl resting on his face as he closed the Iron Man faceplate. He shot off after the team, ignoring their speaking in favor of sulking. 

After the fight with Peter he’d thrown himself into the algorithm made to find and pinpoint the missing experiment. He refused to admit that he was doing it because of the disappointed look in his son’s eyes. 

(And the way he flinched away from him. _Fuck_.)

A hit occured mere seconds after he finished it and a small part of him felt guilty for ignoring Steve. He could’ve finished this in minutes and the stupid argument would’ve never happened. 

When they arrived in the abandoned warehouse off fifth, Tony could’ve scoffed at the clicheness of it all. If Peter were here, he would’ve made a comment about how predictable Hydra was becoming. 

But Peter wasn’t here. 

And he might never be again. 

“Stark! Are you with us?” Clint’s voice cut out over Tony’s warring thoughts. 

“I’m here bird-brain, are you?” he retorted. Clint scoffed and laughed at the same time and Tony was mildly impressed that he could do that. 

“He’s here, alright.” Clint said. “Pay attention, Stark. He’s in there. He’s wearing some kind of mask… I can’t see him clearly. He’s wearing some kind of suit…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Natasha’s gruff voice cut him off. “We’re here to bring him in. Nothing more.” 

“Well said for an assassin.” Tony joked, forcing himself to ignore his stiff uncomfortableness with his wit and sarcasm. Natasha said nothing and Tony huffed. “What’s the play?” he asked. 

“He doesn’t seem to know we’re here,” Natasha said with a frown. “I’m not sure how he’s related to Peter power-wise, but he doesn’t seem to have everything.” 

“Maybe they changed the serum?” Clint guessed. Natasha hummed in acknowledgement. “What’s our move, Cap? Just jump ‘im?” 

“No. We need to be careful,” Steve said. “We don’t know how experienced he is. It’s important that we don’t rush this, we need to be able to bring him in _today_.” 

Everyone nodded and Tony slowly peered into the warehouse through a window on the roof. A figure stood in all white, a web pattern decorating the suit in black and a hood covered his masked face. The Missing Experiment. 

Tony fell through the roof, miscalculating the weight of his suit on the aged roof. Shit. He landed in a heap on the ground in front of the figure. 

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head up. “Come here often?” 

Well he’s nothing if not an improv at heart. 

The experiment hissed and threw a kick at him before jumping away from him in an impeccable show of acrobatics. Damn. 

“Tony what the fuck!” Clint hissed. “What are you doing?!”

“Dancing asshat.” Tony answered, hurling a fist at the graceful figure. It was no good. The experiment dodged perfectly and Tony was quickly getting frustrated. 

“Keep doing that, Stark,” Natasha’s voice called in his ear. “He’s untrained.”

“He looks pretty trained to me!” Tony called, blasting the spot where he’d _just been standing goddamn it_! 

“He hasn’t attacked you, yet.” Natasha said. “He’s not trained. Distract and tire him out. We’ll take care of the rest.” 

Tony huffed but followed Natasha’s advice. He continued to fire at him, and eventually the figure began to slow down, showing that his attempts to exhaust the experiment were successful. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Natasha slammed to the ground on top of him, knocking him out instantly. The experiment slumped to the floor in a heap of unconsciousness. Tony whistled. 

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” he said with a grin, the face plate lifting off of him. Natasha just smirked. 

“I don’t need to remind you,” she said, bending down to haul the lithe figure over her shoulders. “You know better.” 

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XX  
x

Bruce stepped out of the interrogation room the experiment had been set in. He was sent to check over his injuries and report anything and everything he could about the experiment’s mental state. 

A hit from the Black Widow wasn’t exactly something one could just walk away from, after all. 

“Well?” Steve asked, pushing off of the wall. Bruce held a heavy-set scowl and it made Tony frown. The doctor looked deeply troubled. 

“No injuries. Accelerated healing, like Peter.” Bruce said. “There’s quite a lot of similarities to Peter, actually…” 

“What do you mean?” Tony asked. 

“Did you notice how small the figure is?” Bruce asked. Tony frowned, thinking back to how easily Natasha had lifted him off the ground. Not that Natasha isn’t a strong woman or anything, but to carry a full-grown man… 

“How old is he?” Steve asks, stepping forward as realization dawned. Bruce frowns. 

“Well first off, _she’s_ sixteen.” they all rear back in horror. “And I think she’s been kidnapped too. She won’t speak though.” Bruce leads them into the room where a sixteen year old girl with pale blonde hair sits. Her head was bowed and she stared at her clenched hands that rested on the cold metal. 

“The only thing she could tell me is that her name is Gwen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a long ass chapter! And here we are. We are in the meat of the plot and the book is almost over! :'( Thanks so much for reading, and please leave a kudos and a review!!! 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s condition takes a nose dive off the nearest cliff, meanwhile the Avengers learn more about Gwen and how she came to be Experiment 2177

Peter fumbled nervously outside the kitchen. He could hear them speaking in there---his dad and his mom laughing as Tony attempted to pry a cooking spatula from Clint’s hand---and he was anxious. He wanted to apologize to Tony for what had happened, but he didn’t want to do it in front of everyone. No doubt, they were aware of the fight, but he liked to think that they were oblivious for his own pride. 

Peter steeled himself before he walked into the kitchen. Luckily, only Clint and Pepper were in the room. Pepper smiled at him when he entered and Peter felt a small amount of tension leave him. 

“Hey sweetheart, how was your session?” Pepper asked. Peter pulled himself up so that he could sit on the counter, ignoring Clint’s glare as he moved some of the cooking ingredients to make room. 

“Pretty good,” he said, swinging his legs back and forth. “We had a good talk. I learned some things about her. Did you know her daughter was missing?”

Pepper frowned. “I didn’t,” she said. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” 

Peter shrugged, unsure of how to respond to that. So instead he chose to address his dad like he practiced. “I’m sorry,” he said, facing Tony---who was now looking at him in shock---with a reproachful expression on his face. “About earlier. It was wrong of me to yell at you like that. I know you’re struggling with everything going on, but so am I, and I lashed out. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” 

Tony’s shocked expression melted into a fond grin. He walked over and pulled Peter into a hug and Peter reciprocated gratefully. “Thanks kiddo,” he said, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Love ya, Pete.”

Peter flushed, and though he still had trouble verbalizing his affection towards the Starks, he loved them too. “I love you too.” he mumbled, hiding his face slightly. 

Tony pulled away after another few seconds (Peter tried not to think about why Tony was so clingy) and grinned. “Wanna watch a movie while Pep cooks?” he asked playfully. 

Clint groaned, making his presence known once again. “I was cooking tonight!” he pouted. 

Tony snorted. “Not on your life, Vent-Rat.” 

“Sure,” Peter smiled. “Can we watch _Lilo and Stitch?_ It’s one of my favorites.” 

Tony’s expression melted and he nodded fondly. “Sure kiddo.”

Peter followed Tony into the living room, and got comfortable on the couch as the comforting sounds of the movie began. It was only a few minutes later when the creeping exhaustion---the one that seemed to be everywhere now---began to pull him under. 

He fell asleep right after Stitch bit the red-headed girl.

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XX

Nausea pulled him from his slumber and Peter knew instantly that he was going to throw up. He had fallen asleep curled up on his dad’s chest and that’s where he was when he awoke suddenly. He stood, desperate to make it to a toilet, only for a staggering wave of dizziness to overcome him. He staggered, bracing himself against the wall, before he lost the battle and expelled the contents of his stomach on the floor. 

The smell of sick only caused his stomach to lurch further, but the real problem was the stabs of pain he felt in his midsection. He doubled over, clutching his stomach but received no relief. Another stab of pain in his stomach---this time it was almost debilitating---and his stomach rebelled further. 

He vomited once more, but this time, there was a startling amount of red in his sick. 

“ _Peter_.” the sound of his father’s voice caused Peter to turn miserably. Tony looked like the air had been punched out of him, his horrified eyes not leaving the pool of blood that Peter had just finished throwing up. 

“ _D-Dad_.” Peter whined, his headache spiking and another stab of pain caused Peter to curl in on himself further. 

Peter’s pain-filled cry seemed to spark the man into action, as Tony rushed forward and scooped him up into his arms. Tony began shouting at FRIDAY to get help, but the waves of oblivion were pulling at Peter again. 

His head swayed and Peter blinked only to see Tony’s frantic face close to him. “---wake! Peter please---.... Don’t….!” Tony went in and out of focus. His blurred image was accompanied by his voice being drowned out by a buzzing. 

“‘Mmh,” Peter tried _so hard_ to get his voice to work, but the waves were pulling him further and further down into the blissful nothingness. “‘M tired.” he managed to get out. 

If anything, this seemed to make Tony even more frightened. “Don’t go to sleep, Peter!” he cried, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the incessant buzzing in his ears. “Please, stay awake!” 

Whatever Tony was going to say after that was lost as Peter succumbed to the waves, and he closed his eyes, Peter knew nothing more. 

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XX  
x

The only noise was a light beeping, and it made Tony grit his teeth and clench his jaw. 

The sight of his son---his baby, God, he was just a baby---laying impossibly still in the hospital bed made Tony so uncomfortable. Like there was nothing good left in the world. He was so small, dwarfed by the big machines and wires connected to him. 

“Well?” he finally managed to spit out. Bruce sighed, an age-old weariness making him look so much older. 

“I don’t know, Tony,” he said, regret lacing his words. “I’m so sorry.” 

“ _How can you not know_?!?!” Tony shouted, his voice cracking. Pepper’s grip on his hand tightened and he choked on a sob. “How… How can you not know?” he whispered. 

“Tony…” Bruce’s voice was so full of concern and pity, it made Tony want to throw up. He clenched his fists, and refused to look up from the floor. 

“When will he wake up?” Pepper asked, only squeezing Tony's hand as a form of comfort. 

“I’m not sure…” Bruce trailed off and Tony’s heart froze for a moment. Bruce must have seen the horrified look on his face because he rushed to continue. “He will wake up. He’s just exhausted. A couple hours maybe.” 

Tony nodded, something in his chest loosening enough so that he could breathe. “What happened to him?” he asked, mostly to himself. “He was throwing up… blood.” 

“I don’t know,” Bruce sighed. “But what I do know, is that the deterioration has accelerated.” 

Tony paused. “It got… worse?” 

“It looks like it,” Bruce said softly. “His cells are deteriorating faster than they were before, and he shows signs of internal bleeding.” Bruce paused, clearly debating if he wanted to share before continuing. “His… his organs are starting to shut down.”

Pepper let out a sob that she quickly muffled with her hand. Tony was pretty sure that he was experiencing astral-projection because he felt like he was floating. His head felt fuzzy and all he could think about was his son, who was dying slowly just five feet to his left. 

He licked his lips. “How long?”

“Tony…” Bruce said, his face scrunched up in pain. 

“How _long_ , Bruce?” he repeated. 

Bruce sighed, looking at a sleeping Peter on the hospital bed, frustration and pain evident on his face. He looked back at the couple, a carefully blank expression on his face. 

“A few weeks. At most.” 

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XX  
x

“We can’t just interrogate a _kid_.” Steve argued, looking at Fury incredulously. Fury remained unimpressed. They were standing outside the holding cell where the experiment---“Gwen, just Gwen.”---was being kept.

“Regardless of age, she is still a Hydra operative.” Fury said. “We need the information she has, so yes, Captain, we _can_ interrogate a kid.” 

Steve shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s not right.” he said, his emotions warring on his face. 

“Steve, we’re not going to be torturing her,” Clint said, taking pity on his friend's unease. “We’re just asking some questions. If she doesn’t answer, we won’t make her.” 

It was clear that Steve was not okay with it, but he nodded. Fury just rolled his eyes and turned to enter the cell when the sound of footsteps caused them to turn around. A clearly agitated Tony was walking towards them quickly. 

“Tony?” Steve frowned. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with---”

“I need the information,” Tony said curtly. “That a problem?” 

Steve seemed to be taken aback by Tony’s brush attitude, but it was easy to see that something was bothering the mechanic, so nothing was said. Steve merely shook his head and turned around to enter the cell, a genius by his side this time. 

Gwen was sitting in the corner, curled into a tight ball. Her blue eyes looked empty when they looked up at them and Tony flinched back, an image of Peter in the same position flew to his head unbidden. He shook it away, forcing himself to remain indifferent. 

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, and she sounded far too calm about it. Tony felt sick. 

“We’re not going to kill you.” Natasha said, as she was the only one---save for Fury---who was able to get past her question. “We just want some information.” 

Gwen nodded, resigned. “Is there a schedule?” she asked. 

“Schedule?” 

“For the torture.” she explained. Tony reared back in horror and was starting to regret his decision to come in here, his stomach rolling. “It’s better with one. All of the experiments are trained with a schedule.” 

Tony froze, his jaw dropping as he looked at the girl in front of him. “ _All_ of them?” he asked, his mouth suddenly very dry. 

She nodded, not picking up on his horror. “Yes.” she said. “So is there a schedule?”

“There will be not torture.” Natasha said firmly. If Gwen was surprised, she didn’t show it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the group. 

“That’s not a very reliable interrogation method.” she said pointedly. Natasha laughed and Gwen seemed to uncurl just a little bit. “What do you want to know?” 

“Hydra, mostly.” Natasha said, leaning forward slightly. “Their plans, their projects, their people. That sort of thing.” 

Gwen nodded. “They don’t tell their assets much.” she said. Tony felt a repulsed shiver crawl down his spine. How could Hydra be so good at being despicable? So much that they could dehumanize a person to the point that they speak of it like it’s normal. 

“That’s fine,” Natasha said, waving a hand. Tony was amazed at her ability to continue as if the abuse in front of them didn’t bother her. (Though, to be fair, she grew up the same way Gwen must have. So it’s not that much of a surprise.) “Just tell us what you do know.” 

Gwen nodded. “I was sent on a mission when you captured me.” she said. At this Fury seemed to become interested, as he leaned forward and started to pay attention. 

“What was the mission?” Natasha asked. 

“Recon.” Gwen said. “I’m supposed to be casing New York, find the best place for a hideout, those sorts of things. I was supposed to return to base for my final mission,but instead I’m here.” she shivered, a sudden realization dawning on her. “They must know I’ve been compromised by now.” 

“How long have you been with Hydra?” Natasha asked, a sudden glint in her eyes. Gwen frowned. 

“Eight months or so,” she said. “Not that long.” 

“I find it curious that they would let a rookie out on the field,” Natasha said. “Why? Why let you out? You’re giving away quite a bit of information to be a loyal soldier.” 

“I’m not a soldier.” she hissed. “I’m an experiment. Nothing more than a lab rat to those свиньи!” 

“So you’re not loyal?” she asked. Gwen deflated like all her strings had been cut. 

“I never was,” she said softly. “They never broke me. I had… I had to pretend. I knew that if I was lucky, I could get captured.” 

“You wanted to get captured?” Natasha asked, surprise coloring her words. “Why?” 

“I just want to go home,” Gwen said softly, her scarred hands clenching together into a fist. Her breathing was shaky as she stifled sobs. Tony tensed, as all he could see at that moment was his son in a cold room begging to go home. Tony swallowed and looked away. “Please. I just want to go home and see my mom and dad. I don’t want to be Experiment 2177 anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> \- "Pigs."  
> \------------------  
> Welp. Hold on to your hats my friends. It's about to get real. Thanks so much for reading, please leave a kudos and a review! Try and predict what you think is going to happen! I'd love to see if any of you guess close! 
> 
> Next Update: Friday
> 
> Stay safe!


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony takes a calculated risk, and it backfires. Spectacularly.

“What are you going to tell Peter?” Pepper asks, looking at him in shock. Tony clenches his jaw and looks away. He had woken up a few hours ago and remained semi-coherent, but struggled to stay awake longer than a few hours at a time. It was _heart-breaking_ to see him like that. 

“I’m not going to tell him anything.” he says firmly. Pepper looks at him in shock. 

“You’re not?” she asked. “Why not? Tony, our son deserves to know---”

“Pepper, he was already horrified about Hydra’s choice of experiment,” Tony said. “I’m not going to tell him that we caught the experiment who is the same age as him. I’m not doing that to him.” 

“But---”

“Besides,” Tony continues, looking down at their intertwined hands with a sad look on his face. “I don’t want to stress him out anymore.” 

Pepper sighed and nodded. “You’re probably right.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Probably?” 

“Well, we all know that you’re only right half of the time.” Pepper grinned. Tony scoffed in mock offense. “The other half is you doing it anyway out of sheer stubbornness.” 

“And yet you married me.” Tony grinned. Pepper smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“That I did.” 

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XX  
x

Everyone was acting weird. 

Peter noticed it the second he woke up. He figured at first it was because of what happened. His condition got exponentially worse, and everyone was treating him delicately because of it. But now, Peter wasn’t so sure that was the _only_ reason everyone was acting strange. 

He could tell that they were hiding something by the way they held hushed conversations just outside of his hearing range, and the second they entered the room, they would stop. Peter tried not to show that he noticed anything, but it was starting to drive him insane. 

He was so exhausted now, too. He could barely keep his eyes open now. A part of him was terrified because he knew what that meant, but the other part of him was just too tired to care. 

He wanted to ask what was going on, but he knew that if he did, they would get all tight-lipped about it. 

Peter groaned in irritation, but all it did was cause Tony to start and look at him in fear. “Are you okay?” he cried. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Dizzy?” 

“'M fine,” Peter said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Just tired.” 

An indistinguishable emotion passed through his eyes, but it was buried before Peter had the chance to decipher it. “Then you should sleep,” he said, his lips pursed. “Sleep is the best medicine.” 

“I thought that was laughter?” Peter said with a smile. Tony returned it, but it was so forced, it made Peter want to cry. 

“Do you want me to make you laugh?” he asked playfully. Peter grinned but shook his head---slowly so that he wouldn’t get too dizzy. 

“No, it hurts to laugh,” he said. The emotion flitted in his eyes once more and this time it was obvious. Tony was utterly terrified. It stumped Peter, although it probably shouldn’t have. Of course he would be afraid, his son was dying! But it made Peter uncomfortable to see him this way, like it was wrong for the great Tony Stark to be afraid. “What’re you doing?” Peter opted to ask, changing the subject. For the past few hours Tony had been fiddling with something on his tablet while he sat dutifully at Peter’s bedside. 

Tony tensed. “Nothing.” he said, a little too quickly. Peter’s eyes narrowed. So, he was working on something that was a part of the ‘Big Secret’, as Peter had taken to calling it. 

“Oh,” he said, not willing to let this go. “Is it something with S.I?” 

Tony chuckled nervously. “Why the interrogation, Pete?” 

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Peter asked in return. Tony blinked and looked at him funny. 

“Wait, is this an interrogation?” he asked. Peter bit his lip. 

“Are you hiding something from me?” he asked. He watched with rapt attention as the emotions flitted over his dad’s face before he settled on innocence. 

“Of course not, buddy,” he said. “Why would you think that?” 

_Yes, I am hiding something, and I’m not going to tell you._

Peter shook his head, the unsaid message clear in his head. “No reason,” he said. “I was just curious, is all. What are we having for dinner?” 

Tony took the subject change graciously, almost desperately. It only further cemented the idea that something was being hidden from him. Something big. But it was clear that his dad wasn’t going to be forthcoming, so he’d need to get his answers from someone else. 

Luckily, he knew just the person. 

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XX  
x

“Hey honey---”

“I think he’s hiding something from me.” Peter said with conviction, interrupting May the second she walked into the med bay. She raised an eyebrow at him and quickly sat down next to his hospital bed. 

“Why do you say that?” she asked. She didn’t even need to ask who he was talking about, because it was obvious. 

“He practically told me himself!” Peter cried. “By not answering my question, he answered my question!” 

May fought to keep the amusement off her face. “What’s that?” 

“I asked him if he was hiding something and he was all like, ‘ _Of course not! Why would you think that?_ ’.” Peter scoffed. “As if I haven’t noticed all their whispered conversations that just so happen to be conveniently outside my hearing range!” 

“Why are you so upset about this?” May asked. Peter looked at her like she’d just asked the obvious question. 

“Why? Because he lying to me!” Peter cried. “He’s treating me like I’m a kid!” 

“Baby, as much as you hate hearing it, you _are_ a kid.” May said. Peter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest to show his displeasure. 

“Yeah, a kid who’s _dying_ ,” he bit out, ignoring May’s flinch. “I can handle it. Why doesn’t he trust me?” 

“So there’s the reason.” May said. Peter frowned at her. 

“What?”

“Peter, are you upset because he’s _hiding something_ or because you feel like he doesn’t _trust you_?” May asked. Peter bit his lip. 

“I mean, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?” he asked. May shook her head fondly. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sure your dad has a very good reason for hiding something from you.” she said. 

“But---” 

“Tony loves and trusts you,” she continued. “Whatever he’s hiding from you, he’s doing it because he wants to protect you.” 

“I don’t need protecting.” Peter said petulantly. May nodded. 

“I know. And so does he.” she said. 

“Then why---”

“Maybe he’s doing it because he’s not ready to tell you the truth,” May said. Peter frowned, considering it. “Maybe, by keeping it from you, he’s protecting himself just as much.” 

“But what would he need to protect himself from?” Peter asked in confusion. 

May gave him a sad smile, as she cupped his cheek. “Oh Pete,” she said softly. “Sometimes the truth hurts more than the lie.” 

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

Peter woke to the sound of footsteps. 

After his talk with May, he had begrudgingly accepted that whatever Tony was hiding, was probably something that he would find out eventually. He had ate his dinner with the rest of the team all squeezed into his room before his exhaustion won, and he fell into a deep sleep. Once he’s asleep, it’s almost impossible to pull him out, which was why the footsteps startled him. 

After living here for so long, Peter found it quite easy to recognize the footsteps of everyone who lived with him. Everyone had a different gait, whether it was from their weight or just from the way they walked. They all had a distinguishable footstep, and that was why he didn’t have trouble guessing who was coming to visit him. 

He didn’t recognize the footsteps that woke him. 

His body tensed, his spidey-sense buzzing to life, and he sprung from the bed. Intruder played through his head over and over. Someone had broken into the tower. 

He stood up, moving quietly to the door, only for a wave of vertigo to pass him. He fought the black creeping around the edges of his vision. He couldn’t pass out now---he needed to protect the people in the tower. 

He slowly opened the door, and started to crawl up the wall, hoping to find better purchase so that he could get a surprise attack. He cursed when the dizziness returned with a vengeance. He scrunched his eyes closed, taking a deep breath, and waited for the dizziness to pass. 

His eyes snapped open, however, when the footsteps stopped directly below him. 

He looked down to see a small figure standing directly below him. He dropped from the ceiling and threw a punch. He landed on the floor and winced as the wind was knocked out of him. The figure had dodged at just the last second. 

“What are you---” the feminine voice was cut off as Peter stood. He braced himself against the wall as he took the time to get a good look at the intruder. She looked familiar almost, like he had seen her before. 

Apparently so did she, as her eyes widened. “Wait aren’t you Tony Stark’s kid---” 

Peter didn’t give her the chance to come to her senses and attack. He made the first move. He slammed forward, throwing a right hook that she caught easily. Her eyes widened at the attack but didn’t move to defend herself until Peter swiped his foot under her legs. 

The moment she toppled to the ground, Peter was on her, throwing punch after punch. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m not going to let you hurt anyone here!” he shouted. 

The intruder growled and brought up her legs. She kicked Peter off of him with ease, and he flew into the wall. He groaned as his ribs protested against the movement. “Hurt anyone? _You’re_ the one who attacked _me_!” she cried. 

Peter stood, and his vision whited out for a moment, and the intruder used his distraction to her advantage. She slammed him into the wall again, and Peter let out a hoarse cry. The sound only dragged a cough out of him, and doubled over coughing. He spit out a small glob of blood before he turned back to his attacker. 

“How did you get in the tower?” he demanded, kicked her with as much strength as he could muster. He cursed himself for not having his web shooters on him. “Why are you here? Who sent you?” 

“Jesus, you need to calm down, I’m not here to hurt anyone---” she was cut off by another kick, and she growled. She threw a punch at Peter, and he caught it in the gut. He doubled over for a second, but that was all it took for her to gain the upper hand. 

Peter fell to the ground, and his vision was going in and out of focus, but suddenly the weight pinning him to the floor was gone. He blinked a few times and suddenly he could see clearly again. 

Steve was holding a struggling Gwen away from Peter. 

_Oh thank God_ , Peter thought. _The Avengers are here. They’re safe._

“PETER!” Tony cried, rushing towards him. 

Peter stood, and that was all it took for the horrible dizziness to return. He swayed and Tony barely made it there in time to catch him. He felt something wet begin to pour from his nose, and he grimaced. Shit. That wasn’t good. If the world was currently spinning in gigantic loops, he would probably feel some concern for the fact that his nose was now drenching his shirt in blood, despite not being hit in the nose.

Another wave of vertigo, and Peter slumped into his father’s hold, unconscious. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Gwen cried, horrified. “I barely even...he just attacked me...I didn’t…” 

Bruce took pity on her. “It’s okay Gwen, it wasn’t your fault. Peter is really sick right now.” 

Gwen looked at him in confusion. “Sick? How? I thought he was…” _Like me_ was left unsaid. 

Tony grit his teeth and held Peter closer. “Yeah.” he said, looking down at Peter’s fever-flushed face. “So did we.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!!! Get ready everyone, next chapter is going to be crazy! Please leave a kudos and a review, they make me so happy! 
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe everyone! :)


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like Peter’s condition has hit it’s final stages and the team no longer knows what to do. Can he be saved?

Peter’s vision came in and out of focus. 

It had been doing that a lot lately. Every time he manages to defeat the exhaustion pulling him under and actually open his eyes, his vision would blur and he would just close them again. He was so tired, it was almost impossible to stay awake now. 

He knew what that meant---he was fully aware that he was dying. 

(For real this time, the evidence is too large to deny it this time.)

Sometimes, he would open his eyes and his vision was right and he could make out what was going on around him. He was back in his bedroom in the med bay, the machines surrounding him had increased, and the beeping was so loud. The chairs that usually lined the walls had been pushed up so that he circled the bed. The chairs had an array of people cycling through them, but every time Peter closed his eyes and opened them, it was a new person. 

If he focused hard enough he could tune in to the conversations around him, but never very long. He was just get too tired. It was frustrating, and Peter was sure that if it didn’t take so much energy, he’d cry about it. 

He was aware enough, though, to know that it wasn’t looking good. 

Scattered bits of arguments would go through his ears every now and then, and his dad’s words would be clipped and angry and it made Peter want to give him a hug. He struggled to verbalize it, but when he managed to tell him that, Tony hugged him tight. Peter pretended he didn’t feel the tears soaking his shoulder. 

On the good days, Peter was able to stay awake and coherent for hours. He would get help sitting up, and he would just talk to everyone. (Everyone came to the med bay as soon as they had the chance, but his mom and dad, as well as May, would be there twenty-four seven.) He would soak in the good days like a sponge because he knew the number of them were dwindling. 

On the bad days, Peter would drift. 

He felt like he was on a boat, slowly rocking back and forth. The world would rotate in slow, spinning loops, and he would just try to stay aware long enough to know he was still alive, before the boat would sink and he would sink under the waves of oblivion. 

Peter wasn’t sure how many days had passed since everything started going downhill. It felt like an eternity, but his sense of time was off. Perhaps it’d been a week, perhaps a month, or perhaps no time had passed at all. Peter would think about it, but it made his head swim, so he would go back to his blissful ignorance. 

And throughout it all, Peter would wish he was healthy. Would wish that this wasn’t happening to him. Because the only thing worse than dying, was watching a part of your family die along with you. 

Peter would sit there, helpless, as he watched his father dive deeper and deeper into his work, hoping to avoid the biggest problem that he couldn’t fix. He would clutch his hand like a vice and muffle his sobs when he thought Peter was sleeping, and Peter couldn’t console him. 

Peter would sit there, helpless, as he watched his mother fall apart, the pain of losing her child for the second time proving to be too much for her. She would wrap her arms around him the best she could and clutch him tight, trying to prove to herself that he was still there. Peter longed to tell her that it was going to be okay, but his mouth refused to work. 

Peter would sit there, helpless, as he watched his aunt go over all the machines nervously, before she would slump into the closest chair and force herself to be strong. It broke his heart, seeing her like that. Peter wished he could tell May that he was okay, tell her that everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t. 

He was just stuck sitting there. 

_Helpless_. 

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XX  
x

“How much longer?” Tony asked, his voice cracked and hoarse. He was sitting in a chair, his weight slumped into it as he watched Peter. 

It had been only three days since Peter had collapsed. The fighting had triggered his adrenaline, which forced his body to fight faster. Peter was dying faster and Tony didn’t know what to do. It was terrifying to see the vacant look in his son’s eyes. Tony couldn’t describe the terror and horror he felt, but it was a feeling no one should have to feel. Ever. 

Tony grit his teeth when he remembered the way Peter had asked for a hug. He looked so sad and Tony couldn’t say no. (Not that he wanted to.) He had scooped his baby up in the tightest hug he felt comfortable giving him. He never wanted to let go, and it was then that the realization that he might have to had hit him. He couldn’t stop the tears from escaping and he held him just a little tighter. 

“I’m not sure,” Bruce said softly, his eyes softening at the broken look on his friend’s face. “We’re doing everything we can, but without the stabilizer, it doesn’t look good.” 

Tony growled. The stabilizer mentioned in the folder was nonexistent. There was no way they could synthesize one in time, not on the next-to-nothing information they were working with. 

“What are you saying, Bruce?” Pepper asked, and Tony hated the tone of her voice. It reminded him of how small she had become after the loss of Peter. (The first time. Because it looked like there was going to be a second.) 

Bruce sighed, and it was clear that he didn’t want to say it. Tony wished he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to know that Peter’s death was inevitable. He couldn’t stomach it. 

“Without the stabilizer, Peter’s condition is going to get worse.” Bruce said. Tony wanted to scoff, because there was no possible way it could get worse. “Right now he’s suffering from internal bleeding in his stomach and liver---that alone can be fatal. However, his other organs are showing signs of failure. It… It won’t be long…” 

Tony swallowed dryly, the desire to break something became almost overwhelming. His hands twitched. “What can we do?” May asked, twisting her hands nervously. 

“We can make Peter as comfortable as possible.” Bruce said. 

Tony stood up suddenly, his chair falling backwards from the stiff movement. Everyone jumped at the loud noise and turned to look at him. 

“Tony---”

“No.” he said, his voice cold and firm. “What else can we do?” 

“Tones…” Bruce said softly, and Tony hated it. He didn’t want the sympathy and concern. He wanted answers. He wanted results. 

“No. No. _No_ ,” Tony hissed. “We are not putting Peter in _hospice_! He is not going to die! We are going to save him! So tell me how to do it!” 

“Tony, right now Peter’s body is tearing itself apart,” Bruce said. “There aren't many options. We’ve given him hormone stabilizers to stop his body’s reaction time, slowing it down, but that’s about the extent of our ability.” 

“I am not going to just sit here and watch him die!” Tony cried. “I just won’t!” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Bruce said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “We can keep working. I’m not giving up, I just….” He sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. “I’m just asking you not to get your hopes up. It… It doesn’t look good.” 

Tony deflated, practically falling into his chair. “I can’t do it…” he whispered, his hand automatically seeking out Pepper’s. His wife squeezed his hand tightly, and he used it to ground himself. “I can’t lose him… _not again_.” 

It was silent then, no one really sure what to say to that. The only noise came from the steady beeping by Peter’s bedside and the slightly staggered breathing from said teen. Tony’s words rang clear, and the message was clear. Tony found himself praying, the strong wave of deja vu practically choking him. 

_Please God, not my baby. Don’t take him. Please, I just got him back, don’t take him from me. Not again, God, please._

But just like last time, his prayer remained unanswered. 

.

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XX  
x

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, his eyebrows pulled close together in concern. 

“How do you think?” Natasha asked, not looking up from her cards. Beside her sat Clint, who---despite being a super spy---had no poker face, and was failing spectacularly. The team was doing it’s best, but watching the Stark family fall apart was taking its toll on everyone else. 

They were practically a family, and seeing Peter in that state was hurting them all. 

“How’s Gwen?” Clint asked, placing a card down. 

“Adjusting.” Steve said, and that much was true. After the reveal of Gwen’s true intentions, she was moved to a room in the tower. She was still being watched, but it wasn’t overbearing. The teen seemed to be grateful, but surprised. 

It made Steve nauseated, seeing the way that Hydra could dehumanize a person so much. He’d seen it before dozens of times, be it from his first encounter, Bucky and Peter, but it still managed to make him sick like it was the first time. 

After the fight with Peter, Gwen had been beside herself. She thought she was going to be thrown out or arrested, and it took awhile for Steve to convince her that she wasn’t at fault. The fight was no one’s fault, just an unfortunate accident. 

Even still, Steve made sure to keep the Starks away from her, as they were grieving their son’s drop in progress, and Steve didn’t want any confrontations. 

“I’m surprised Fury was okay with us moving her,” Natasha said, her face giving away nothing as she drew another card. “I expected more of a fight.”

“I think Fury knows better than to come and pick a fight,” Clint said. “Especially with what’s going on. He’s probably going to wait until… later.” 

Steve cringed, the message of what Clint had meant by that made him want to cry. The mood dimmed and Clint seemed to sink in on himself. Natasha sighed and placed down her cards before she stood. 

“Let’s go see Peter,” she said. “He might be awake.” 

Clint nodded and stood. Steve smiled gratefully and followed after them. They would deal with Hydra and the accompanying problems later. Right now, it was time to spend time with their family. 

.

.

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XX  
x

Peter was startled awake by a low buzzing. 

At first, Peter assumed it was the beeping and hum of the machines that were currently keeping him awake. He groaned and blinked, his body unable to decide if it wanted to sleep or stay awake. 

When his eyes opened fully he was surprised to see a figure standing in the room. Usually such a sight wouldn’t scare him, as he was used to people being near him all the time, but he didn’t recognize this person. 

He blinked a few more times. Recognition clicked and he was surprised to see the woman who he thought was an intruder in his room. Tony had explained to him later that she was actually the experiment that he and Tony had fought about. All he knew was that her name was Gwen and she was just like him.

He had talked to her a few times, usually brought in when his dad wasn’t around. The first time she came, she wanted to apologize for the fight. That was on a good day, and Peter was aware enough to know that the fight was his fault. The second time was on a bad day, and she had sat beside him with Steve and told him stories. 

She was fiddling around with something, but his vision was refusing to cooperate with him, so he couldn’t see what she was doing. “What are you doing?” Peter asks, blinking and trying to force his vision into focus. The blurry figure of Gwen stiffened and Peter saw her turn and in her hand was a vial of Peter’s blood that Bruce had been testing. “What are you doing with that?” 

“Sorry Peter.” Gwen says, the usual smile replaced with something cold. “But I have to complete my mission. I need your blood.” 

Peter’s body feels like it’s been drenched in cold. “W-What?” 

The buzzing gets stronger and he realizes that it's not the machines, but his spidey-sense _screaming_ at him. 

Understanding clicks. Tony had told him that Gwen was an experiment but she hadn’t broke. That she had chosen to get captured so that she could go home. Peter was told that on a Bad day, and he didn’t have enough awareness to tell him that that wasn’t how Hydra worked. Hydra would never have let a rebellious agent out in the field. Not unless they were completing a mission.

Not unless it was all an act. 

Not unless Hydra wanted something. Something that they couldn’t get unless they had an inside person, close enough to the Avengers to get it. Peter instantly knows that whatever Hydra wants his blood for can’t be good. He lunges forward and grapples for the blood. 

His coordination leaves something to be desired, and he hasn’t left his bed in days, but adrenaline was pumping through him. He couldn’t let her get his blood. He wasn’t able to fight her, but he could at least try to stop her until FRIDAY alerted the Avengers. He crashed into her, his arm automatically reaching the vial in her hand. They struggle for a second until Peter’s hand shoots out and slaps the vial out of her hand. It crashes to the floor. Gwen backhands Peter hard enough to send him crashing to the ground. 

Peter’s vision whitens out for a second before he coughs, blood spraying the floor. He struggled to breathe, and black spots were starting to creep into his vision. He heaved in a breath, trying to force himself to stay awake. He couldn’t pass out. Not now. 

“Look what you’ve done!” she cries. “I was trying to help you! Hydra knows the cure! Hydra can save you, Peter. Don’t you want to be saved?” 

“Not… Not like this.” Peter choked out. His head felt funny. Like someone had stuffed cotton through his ears. 

Gwen frowns. “Well that’s too bad. I have a mission and I’m going to complete it.” She takes a step forward, getting closer. Peter tried to crawl away from her, but his world began spinning, and Peter cursed, trying to force the dizziness to go away.

“P-... Please…” Peter whispered. 

“If I can’t have the vial, I guess you’re the next best thing.” Gwen said, leaning down over him. “Sorry Peter, it looks like it’s time to go back home.” 

Peter wants to argue but his body feels like lead. His vision swims before it all turns black, and he knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Sorry, please don't hate me. Thanks so much for reading!!! Please leave a kudos and a review!!! 
> 
> Next Update: Friday
> 
> Stay safe!!


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets the man behind his kidnapping, meanwhile the Avengers find out about Peter and Gwen’s disappearance.

Peter wakes up cold. 

He groans and tries to reach down to pull up the comforter---he must have kicked it off in his sleep during one of his heat flashes---but for some reason he can’t move his arms. He groans again, irritation bleeding into his tone. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, but he’s too cold to fall back asleep. 

He opens his eyes and dread freezes his heart. 

He’s not in the tower. 

Suddenly everything rushes back to him. He was kidnapped. (again.) Peter suddenly tried to get up, only for something to hold him back. Peter looked down to see chains cuffing his hands and feet to a table---

_“Are you ready, Experiment 2176? It’s time for treatment.”_

\---and Peter’s breath hitched in the back of his throat. He was trapped. He pulled at his hands, just once, to test the resistance. It was no good. Hydra knew better than to let his strength go unchecked. They were fully prepared for him. 

Peter let out a frustrated huff, and fought back tears. Why? Why was this happening to him? He was literally _dying_ , what did Hydra want with him now? 

He sighed, internally commanding himself to breathe, and took in his surroundings. It wouldn’t do to panic, not now. He needed to be calm and collected so he could figure out the best way to get the _hell out of dodge_. 

He was cuffed to a table in the center of the room, and encircling the table were machines. Peter refused to look at the large selection of scalpels laying on the table, and instead chose to look for exits. There was one double set of doors to the right of him and that was it. There were no windows, only bright, fluorescent lights in the ceiling that made Peter cringe. 

It looked like Peter was in one of the hospital facilities, but not the good kind, if the straps were anything to go by. 

Suddenly his spidey-sense let off a warning buzz and Peter snapped his head to the right just in time to see Gwen open the door. She was wearing a standard Hydra uniform, with the words ‘Experiment 2177’ stitched on the right breast pocket. She stood next to the door, her shoulders squared, as she watched Peter. 

Peter grit his teeth, refusing to succumb to her intimidation tactic. Instead, he tries to reason with her. Now that he’s semi-coherent, it’s easy to see why he thought he recognized her the first time he saw her. It was because he’d seen a picture of her before. 

“Gwen!” he hissed. She remained stoic, her face betraying nothing. “Gwen! You’re Gwen Stacy aren’t you?” 

Nothing. 

New tactic. “Please! Please, can you let me out? My parents are going to be so worried!” he said, hoping to appeal to her. She merely raised an eyebrow. Peter groaned, letting his head rest back against the table. 

His dizziness was slight, not nearly as bad as usual, and it made Peter feel like he was on a boat. Rocking back and forth… 

The door opened again, and the warning hum got a little louder. He looked towards the door again and was greeted with the sight of a glaring man. Gwen’s face was wiped of any emotion, and she stood straighter---

_“Stand up straight, shoulder back, head bowed! Show some respect!”_

\---nodding her head respectfully at the man. It was obvious that he was the one in charge. He was tall, his stature dwarfing Gwen, with broad shoulders and perfect posture that just screamed power. His hair was golden and styled back against his hair in a Malfoy-esque fashion. His icy blue eyes met Peter’s with a triumphant glare, and Peter flinched back slightly at the malevolent grin. 

“Well if it isn’t Zemo’s failed experiment.” The man said, his harsh German accent was laced with maliciousness and it set Peter even further on edge. 

“And you are?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. 

The man chuckled cruelly. “Oh look! It speaks.” he said, sending Gwen an amused grin over his shoulder. 

“It fights too! Wanna see?” Peter snapped. The man didn’t lose his bemused expression, and instead walked over to where Peter was strapped to the table. Peter hated feeling so helpless. He wanted to back away from the man, but was unable to. 

“It’s such a shame Zemo didn’t have the chance to instill some manners in you before he was killed,” the man said, but his tone made it clear that he wasn’t very sorry. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

Peter didn’t see the backhand coming, and suddenly his face had snapped to the side from the force. Peter closed his eyes, trying to force the room to stop spinning. When he was confident that he wouldn’t vomit all over the man who could end his life with a thought, he turned back to glare hatefully at him. 

He smiled, and Peter’s eyes were drawn to a scar that stretched from his chin to his nose. The man noticed Peter’s stare and grinned wider. “It’s nice ja?” he said. “It was a gift. From Zemo. I was so sad to see he had died before I had the chance to return the favor.” 

“Who are you?” Peter demanded, pulling at his hands once more. “Why am I here? Why did you take Gwen?”

The man laughed. “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” he asked. “No worry. I don’t mind. It’s refreshing. It’s been a while since I’ve had a challenge.” 

Peter bristled. “I swear once I get out of these---”

“ _Stille, Liebling_ ,” he said. Peter frowned at the foreign language. He didn’t speak German. “You want answers? Then you need to be _silent_.” he hissed, switching from calm to furious in seconds. 

Peter frowned, but his desire for answers overrides his pride. He grit his teeth but nodded. The man smiled, his hands coming down to land on Peter’s ankles. Peter’s spidey-sense buzzed loudly and Peter fought the urge to kick him off. 

“So obedient. That’s good.” he said. Peter chose not to comment. “My name is Dr. Zola---”

“Didn’t he die?” Peter asked. The man glared at him and Peter shut his mouth. 

“My grandfather was a powerful genius,” Dr. Zola continued. “But he was defeated by Captain America. His son---my father---however, was still climbing the ranks. And I will return our name to it’s glory by creating the super-serum!” 

Peter scoffed. “That’s what everyone says,” he said. Dr. Zola glared once more, but Peter continued. “You won’t be able to make it. You don’t have the ingredients.” 

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Dr. Zola purred. “I have you.”

“W-What?” Peter sputtered. 

“I’m not making another Captain America,” Dr. Zola said, his face screwing up in disgust when he said Captain America. “I am creating another… Spider-Man.” he said, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. 

“N-No.” Peter shook his head, his heart starting to pound against his chest. “You can’t!” 

“Of course I can!” Dr. Zola snapped. “And I will. I will finally prove once and for all that I, Dr. Zola, am the greatest mind that Hydra has to offer.” 

“You’re insane!” Peter spat. 

Dr. Zola tutted softly, holding his hand to his chest. “You wound me, _Liebling_ , really, you do.”

“Why would you even want more?” Peter cried. Dr. Zola raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? And I thought you were smart.” Dr. Zola sighed. 

“But… But you already made one! You made Gwen! What do you need me for?” Peter demanded. 

“Experiment 2177 is missing a few key details,” Dr. Zola sighed. “Ones that only you can provide.” Peter’s spidey-sense screamed at him when Dr. Zola bent down to grab a needle. It was on the table that Peter had pointedly ignored earlier, and he was starting to regret that. 

“W-What are you doing?!” Peter cried. 

“We’re going to finish my life’s work.” Dr. Zola said. “But first we need your blood, Peter.” he said cruelly. “Don’t worry. This is going to cure you. You’re not going to die from the sickness anymore.” 

Peter swallowed back bile as he realized that he meant the _sickness_ wouldn’t be the cause of his death. 

Not that he wouldn’t die.

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XX  
x

Tony was sleeping peacefully when the loud siren of FRIDAY’s alarm went off. Tony jumped violently, stumbling slightly before he tumbled out of his bed. “FRIDAY?” came Pepper’s groggy response. “What’s going on?” 

“My Baby Monitor Protocol has been activated as of one hour.” FRIDAY said. 

Tony’s heart stopped before he took off. He heard the other members of his family waking up and shuffling out of their rooms to see what was wrong, but Tony didn’t stop. He raced down to the med bay, slamming the door open, only for his stomach to drop to his feet. 

The room was utterly destroyed. Broken glass and overturned machines lay on the floor, and a spatter of blood lay in the corner. The bed sheets were crumbled and the obvious signs of struggle made Tony swallow dryly. 

The bed was empty.

A horrified scream came from behind him, and Tony spun around to see Pepper leaning against the wall, her mouth covered with her hand as she looked at the wreckage before her. Thudding came from down the hall, and within seconds all of the Avengers and May were standing there. 

“Tony…?” Steve’s voice sounded far away. 

“He’s gone.” Tony said, his voice hoarse. 

“What happened?” May cried, tears streaming down her face. “I thought… I thought the tower was safe?” 

“FRIDAY?” Steve asked. 

“My servers were hacked into at 11:04 PM and a blackout occurred. I was brought back online one minute ago when the Baby Monitor Protocol was triggered,” FRIDAY said. “I have no camera evidence of what happened during the blackout.” 

Tony swayed and gripped the wall for stability. “He’s… he’s gone?” 

“And so is Gwen.” came a hard voice from the other side of the hall. Tony lifted his head to see Barnes glaring at the empty med bay. “It was all a ploy.” 

“What?” Steve gasped. “How could… But why?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it!” Natasha snarled. “It was so obvious! Hydra doesn’t just let out rebellious agents! They just don’t!” 

“Wait… _Gwen_ took Peter?” Pepper asked. “But why? Why would she do that?” 

“It was her mission.” Barnes said. “Why else?” 

“We need to find him!” Bruce said, his tone laced with anxiety. “He wasn’t doing great, that’s probably why it was so easy for her to subdue him. I don’t know how long he’ll… how long he’ll last without medical treatment.” 

“I put a tracker in him.” 

There was dead silence as everyone whipped their heads to stare at Tony incredulously, May and Pepper included. 

“You… You put a _tracker_ in our son?” Pepper asked. “Our sixteen year old son?”

“What?” Tony snapped defensively at the surprised looks he was receiving. “He has a nasty habit of getting kidnapped. Sue me.” 

It was silent for another second before May snorted. “We are _so_ having a talk about this later,” she said. “But that can wait until after we have Peter back.” 

Tony nodded firmly. “Let’s go get Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (German)
> 
> \- "Silence, darling," he said...  
> \- "Darling, really, you do."  
> \---------------------------------  
> Thanks so much for reading!!! (Were you expecting that?) Please leave a kudos and a review, they really inspire me! :) <3
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay Safe Everyone!! <3 <3


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Zola is ready to proceed with his plan. The Avengers are on their way to save the day.

Whatever was in that needle hurt like hell. Peter had hissed in discomfort when Dr. Zola plunged it into his arm without a care, but it only started to hurt after the needle had been removed. Within seconds it felt like his blood was boiling. Peter was too exhausted to do anything more than whimper, but his pain was broadcast well enough as Dr. Zola grinned sadistically. 

Why were all of the villains sadistic? Couldn’t they focus on being a good person, instead? (But then, Peter supposed, they wouldn’t make good villains.) 

Peter didn’t know what was in the needle---didn’t know what cocktail of drugs had just been pumped into his system----but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Peter had clenched his fists tightly and grit his teeth against the pain, and within a minute or so, the pain diminished. Peter panted, relaxing against the table as he tried to get his breathing under control. 

“There. All done!” Dr. Zola said in a condescending voice. Peter glared at him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You wanna try?” Peter snapped. Dr. Zola just laughed, not even deigning to give Peter a response. Bastard. Peter switched tactics. “What did you do to me?” 

Dr. Zola let out an exasperated sigh, like he was disappointed in him. “Honestly Peter,” he said, turning back to look at him. “Weren’t you listening? I already told you.”

“Sorry, I find that listening to self-entitled psychopaths quite difficult.” Peter replied. Dr. Zola hissed, his expression contorting in rage. Peter balked, and for a second he was afraid he’d pushed too far and the man was going to kill him, but to his surprise the doctor relaxed and let out a soft chuckle. 

“So rebellious.” he said, looking at Peter as if he were a wonder. Peter shifted uncomfortably. He then sucked in a sharp breath and leaned against the wall. “I just gave you a stabilizing agent.” 

“A stabil---”

“No, don’t interrupt.” Dr. Zola said firmly. Peter snapped his mouth shut, but showed his anger with a rage-filled glare. “The agent stabilized your blood and your bone marrow to prevent your body from attacking itself. In doing so, it stopped your body from tearing itself apart, and now your body is trying to patch itself together.”

Peter frowned as he moved his arm. The burning pain he had felt had long since gone away, but he felt an underlying soreness that was bone deep. He also noticed his senses heightening and things that he hadn't been able to do in weeks---hear the heartbeat of the silent Gwen standing by the door. A more persistent hum buzzing just under his skin telling him he’s in danger. Strength returning to his deadened limbs---and it made Peter weary. How was it fixing him so fast? 

Peter frowned even deeper when another thought entered his head, and he looked up at Dr. Zola. “Why?” he asked. 

Dr. Zola scoffed. “Are you being intentionally dull?” 

“It’s a valid question,” Peter continued. “You saved my life. I still have my powers. And I’m not being killed. Why?”

“Because I need your blood.” Dr. Zola said simply, as if it were an obvious thing. “I need it pure and clean. The only way to get what I need is if I cured you.” 

“What do you need it for?” Peter asked. Dr. Zola was clearly getting annoyed with the repetitive questions, but Peter was more coherent than he’d been in almost a month. He needed to understand. 

“So that I can make 2177 here just as successful.” Dr. Zola said. “She will become the new Asset---an opportunity you so carelessly threw away.” 

Peter scoffed. “Yeah, careless.” 

“Now, hold still. I need your blood.” Dr. Zola said firmly. He then grabbed another needle and walked with intent towards Peter’s restrained form. Peter hissed at him, but was utterly helpless to stop him, even after his powers returned to him. 

Peter winced as the needle entered him, and Peter fought the uncomfortable feeling of his blood being forcibly drawn. Dr. Zola seemed content when he had drawn two vials worth of blood. A rush of dizziness swarmed him from the blood loss, but with his recent dizzy spells, it barely affected him. 

Dr. Zola went to set the vials down when the lights started flashing, and an alarm blared loudly. Dr. Zola looked up, startled. He cursed and shoved the vials of blood into his breast pocket and looked at Gwen. 

“W-What’s happening?!” Peter cried as he witnessed the silent conversation between the doctor and Gwen. 

“It appears the Avengers have arrived.” Dr. Zola hissed. “2177! Guard him. Don’t let him out!” 

Gwen nodded, silent. Peter grit his teeth at the submissive gesture and Dr. Zola swept out of the room, the doors slamming shut. Peter was left in the company of Gwen Stacy. 

“Gwen!” Peter cried, trying to find a way to convince her to help him. “Gwen! Gwen---”

“Be. Quiet.” she said firmly. Peter shook his head, determination glinting in his eyes. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “You’re just like me---”

“I am not a _traitor_.” she hissed. Peter shook his head. 

“You don’t want this.” Peter said, tears swelling up in his eyes as he thought about the trauma and the pain that Hydra had caused him. About the childhood he missed out on. That his parents missed out on. 

Gwen didn’t even flinch. “I want what my handler wants.” she said. Peter felt his heart crack. 

“Please, Gwen. Think about your mom. She misses you so much…” Peter said softly. She didn’t even twitch at the mention of her mom. That wasn’t a good sign. 

Suddenly the door slammed open. Peter jumped at the sudden noise and turned his head to see Tony standing in the door, his gauntlet raised. 

“Dad!” Peter cried, his face breaking out in a relieved smile. 

“Peter---”

Gwen throws a punch at Tony, causing the man to stumble back in shock. It was obvious that he wasn’t expecting her to attack him. She stumbled back again when she tried to kick him. “I don’t want to fight you!” Tony grit out, blocking her punches.

“Then don’t. It’ll make it easier for me.” Gwen hissed. 

Peter watched as his father fought Gwen, hating the feeling of utter helplessness that washed over him. He strained against the bindings on his arms, wishing more than anything he could get out of them. 

A stray repulsor blast hit the ceiling above his head and gave him an idea. “Dad!” he called out. 

Tony looked up at the shout from his son, and glanced his way, not wanting to take his eyes off of Gwen for too long. Peter gestured to the bonds on his wrist and Tony grinned, shooting a blast---carefully aimed---at the binding. 

It didn’t tear them off immediately as Peter hoped, but it weakened the material enough for Peter to use his strength. He yanked on the binds and grinned in satisfaction when they ripped. He kept tugging until his right hand was free. He then quickly untied the other straps. 

He then jumped into the fight, ignoring Tony’s half-hearted protests, and together they quickly subdued her. Peter felt guilty, looking at an unconscious Gwen Stacy. She was just like him. She was kidnapped and forced to become an experiment---the amount of pain she probably went through was something Peter could empathize with, and he didn’t fault her for breaking. 

“Peter!” Tony cried, seizing Peter into his arms. He pressed kisses all over his face as he hugged him close. “Oh god! Oh God! I was so scared! Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

“Okay, okay,” Peter chuckled. “I promise.”

Tony pulled back---though, admittedly, not a lot---to get a better look at his son. His eyes raked him up and down, narrowing at bruises and cuts. “What happened? Are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you feel sick?”

“Dad, I’m fine.” Peter said, loving the way ‘Dad’ sounded on his lips. Why hadn’t he been calling him that more? “I’m okay.” 

“No, you are _not_ okay!” Tony snapped. “You’re sick---”

“I’m not anymore.” Peter cut in. Tony stared at him in shock, his eyes wide with hope. 

“You’re… you’re not?” he asked. Peter shook his head.

“Zola gave me a stabilizer.” he said. “I can feel myself healing. Internally. It’s a weird feeling, honestly.” And it was. It felt like his organs were being stretched and stitched back together. But it wasn’t painful. More like pressure. 

“You’re not sick anymore?” Tony repeated, his eyes wide. Suddenly a relieved smile spread across his face and he started to laugh. It was a little hysterical, but Peter didn’t say anything. “Oh God! You’re going to be okay!”

“Not if we don’t stop Zola.” he said, the memory of Zola sticking the vials of blood in his pocket before escaping popping up in his mind. Tony tensed. 

“What do you mean?”

“Zola took my blood,” Peter said quickly. “He’s going to use it to make more experiments. We need to stop it!” 

Tony’s face hardened. “We will,” he said firmly. “Peter I promise, everything’s going to be okay.” 

Peter smiled. “I trust you.”

And he did. If his Dad said that everything was going to be okay, then it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Leave a kudos and a review!! <3
> 
> Next Update: Friday
> 
> Stay safe, everyone! :)


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end.

Tony is weary, Peter can tell. It’s obvious that he doesn’t like the idea of Peter fighting with him, but given the situation there is no other choice. Peter followed Tony out of the lab that he’d been kept in, giving the unconscious Gwen one last guilty look, before the door slammed shut. 

Peter takes the time to look around as he runs behind his Dad. Peter had assumed that he’d been taken to the base back in Siberia, but this one was different. He could tell it was a Hydra base by the uniform hallways---concrete, painted an ugly grey with a bright red stripe down the center---but it was obvious it was not the base he was raised in, by the serial number on the wing labels. 

The sound of fighting nearby gained Peter’s attention. He snapped his head to the left and skidded to a stop, forcing Tony to look back for him. 

“Peter?” he called. “What are you---”

“This way!” Peter yelled, turning to sprint down a branching hallway. He heard his father curse behind him before the thudding of metallic footsteps signaled his approach. Satisfied that he was following, Peter raced in the direction of the fight. 

He followed the hallways until he reached a large atrium. Peter could see Dr. Zola fighting against Steve in the center of the room. Peter frowned, trying to find the other Avengers but he couldn’t see them. 

“Peter!” Tony hissed, forcing Peter to look back at him. “We have to go!” 

“What? No!”

“Yes!” Tony cried. “I don’t want you anywhere near here! Come on, there’s a Quinjet waiting outside.” 

“NO! I’m not leaving! We have to make sure he doesn’t get away with my blood!” Peter cried, turning to run into the atrium, only for Tony’s hand to grasp his wrist. 

“I am not going to let you fight, Peter.” Tony said stubbornly. “You’re sick---”

“I’m not sick anymore!” Peter cried. 

“We don’t know that!” Tony countered. “I’m not risking it!” 

“We don’t have time to argue about this! Steve needs our help! And where is everyone else?!” Peter asked, throwing a cautious look behind him. The fight raged on, and somehow, Dr. Zola was holding his own against Steve. 

Tony’s face hardened with determination. “I need you to trust me, Peter.” 

“I---”

“Well, well,” a cold voice called, forcing the father-son duo to focus back in on the battle currently going down. Dr. Zola taunted them from the center of the atrium. “2176, how kind of you to join us.” 

“Give up, Dr. Zola!” Peter cried, moving once again to attack, and was once again stopped by the grip on his arm. “You can’t win!” 

Dr. Zola merely grinned. “Oh, on the contrary, 2176,” he called. “I will win. Then I will prove, once and for all, that the great Zola name will always serve Hydra.” 

“What a nutcase.” Tony muttered behind him. 

Dr. Zola’s gaze landed on Tony, a cruel sneer resting on his face. “Ah, Mr. Stark, an honor to meet you.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” 

“It is always nice to meet people of your stature,” he continued, ignoring Tony’s deadpanned response. By now the fighting between the two had toned down some, yet Steve continued to attempt to incapacitate him. Peter could see Steve’s confusion written out on his face. 

Peter probably would’ve been confused too, but then, if his family name had been ruined by Captain America, he would’ve studied his fighting techniques too. 

“I’m afraid no one is quite my _stature_ ,” Tony drawled, stepping forward slightly and subtly pushed Peter behind him. “But I accept your compliment nonetheless.” 

Dr. Zola’s sneer tightened. “I hope you don’t mind, I took your spawn,” he said, a satisfied grin replacing the sneer. Tony’s grip on his wrist tightened slightly, and Peter gripped his arm to a reassuring squeeze. Tony took in a deep breath. “I just needed to borrow him.” 

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll be taking him home now.” Tony snapped. Dr. Zola’s grin widened. 

“Oh, you are quite hilarious, Mr. Stark.” he said. “But I’m afraid I still have use for him. I hope you don’t mind if I return him in a casket.” 

“I hope you don’t mind me burying you!” Tony snarled. “Sick bastard!”

“You really are quite rude.” Dr. Zola said with a smirk. “How did you manage to last so long?” 

Tony smirked. “By biding my time and waiting for the big guys to arrive.” 

Dr. Zola’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “What?”

Suddenly the double doors at the other side of the atrium burst open and dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D soldiers stormed the room. Clearly Zola wasn’t expecting this, as he didn’t seem to have any backup plans. 

Peter looked at his dad in shock, and Tony grinned at him. “What? You think I didn’t learn my lesson after the last time? Of course I brought backup.”

Peter grinned. “You…” he just laughed. “That’s really smart. Little lame, lame though…” 

Tony scoffed, holding his chest in mock offense. “You dare? I just saved your spider-butt!” 

Peter laughed loudly and leaned in for a hug. Tony returned in gratefully, nuzzling Peter’s chestnut curls. “I’m so glad you came for me, Dad.” he whispered, soft enough that Tony shouldn’t hear it. 

He did though, and tightened his grip on Peter. “I love you, kid.” he said. 

Peter pulled away when he saw the agents dragging a semi-aware Gwen with them. Pity coursed through his veins because, in another life, that would’ve been him. 

“Why the sad face, kiddo?” Tony asks, holding Peter close to him. 

“She’s Dr. Stacy’s daughter.” Peter says softly. Tony looks at him in shock. “She told me about how her daughter had been kidnapped and she just wants to see her come home. It’s not Gwen’s fault she did all those things. She just needs a little help, not a prison cell.”

Tony squeezes Peter’s shoulder comfortingly, seeming to understand Peter’s dilemma. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Peter nodded gratefully and Tony clapped. “Well, Nat and Clint are around somewhere with S.H.I.E.L.D, Steve of course needed to be the distraction---” Peter chuckled at that. “Everyone else is waiting at home. Shall we?”

Peter smiled and nodded. 

“Let’s go home.”

.

.

.

.

.

XX  
x

“He’s… I don’t know how this…” 

“Just tell us, Bruce.” Tony said tensely. He was sitting in the medbay, Peter sitting on the doctor’s table and his family encircling him in chairs. “Please.” 

Bruce sucked in a deep breath. “He’s perfectly healthy.” Everyone froze, looking at Bruce in shock. “I don’t know how but… His blood levels have stabilized, and it looks like his healing is kicking in. All of his organs are already healing themselves.” 

“So.. So I’m going to be okay?” Peter asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “He really… He really saved me?” 

Bruce sighed. “I’d like to do some tests but…” he smiled, a smile so full of relief that everyone else relaxed a little. “Yeah. Peter you're going to be okay.” 

Cheers rang through the med bay, and Peter laughed---slightly hysterical but no one really cared---when he was scooped up in a tight hug. 

“Movie night to celebrate!” Tony cried out. 

Peter chuckled at his dad’s antics, but was too excited with the prospect of living a full life to care. Peter spent the rest of his day hanging out with his family, trying to process everything that had just happened. Hydra would probably be a problem, but then again, when weren’t they? Peter knew that with his family by his side, he’d be okay. 

And as they sat around the kitchen table laughing and talking together, the domesticity hit him like a train. Here he was with his family and friends, enjoying dinner together. It was perfect. 

“Peter?” 

Peter blinked, focusing back on the conversation. “What?” 

Tony looked at him with mild concern. “You alright buddy?” he asked. Peter smiled and nodded. 

“Yeah, just… just really happy.” 

Tony blinked before he smiled widely. “Me too, kiddo.” 

The rest of the dinner passed and Peter managed to convince May to forgo the dishes in favor of watching a movie with the rest of the family. And as the comforting sound of the Star Wars intro played out, all Peter could think of as he looked out at the comfortable scene before him was simple. 

_I’m home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! We finally got there! I hope you don't mind the sappy ending. There's only one more chapter left until the end of the series! I really hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> IMPORTANT: _We break this regularly scheduled Author's Note for this shameless self-promo:_ Hi! If you like Harry Potter please read this promo! I've posted a new book called 'The Little One with Green Eyes' featuring a possessive Dark Lord, protective Death Eaters, and adorable baby Harry. This is not your average Voldemort Adopts Harry Trope, because Voldemort is _actually_ a good dad in this. Yay! Also with a twist! Please check it out! :)
> 
> _Now back to your regularly scheduled Author's note_
> 
> Next Update: Tuesday
> 
> Stay safe, everyone! :) <3


	28. Epilogue

Peter groaned as he was awoken harshly from his sleep. He batted away the hand that was shaking him, determined to sleep just a little longer, but the hands were insistent. Peter had had a great day. Aside from, you know, being _kidnapped_ and all. But coming home, healthy and alive, that… _that_ was perfect. 

He had eaten dinner with his family, had watched a movie with his family, had gotten a hug and a kiss goodnight, and was fully prepared to get a full night's sleep for the first time in who-knows-how-long. 

Instead he was being awoken at the God-awful hour of one AM. Peter huffed as he sat up, throwing the strongest glare he could muster in the direction of the perpetrator. Peter scowled in confusion as he looked at the man responsible for waking him up from his much desired sleep. 

“Wolf?” he asked grouchily. “What are you doing?”

Wolf just tilted his head. “Do you want to look at the stars?”

Peter looked at him in confusion, but he knew that Wolf wouldn’t wake him up for just anything. Peter nodded, albeit hesitantly, and quickly found his shoes. He followed Wolf to the roof in silence, the only noise coming from the squeaking of his sneakers against the floor. 

The door to the roof groaned against the hinges, and Peter reminded himself to talk to his dad about that as he followed Wolf to the edge of the roof. He sat comfortably on the ground, tilting his head up to look at the stars. 

The stars---they weren’t all that visible. They were in the center of New York City, after all, and light pollution was no joke. But that didn’t make the view any less incredible. Peter felt his breath being stolen away from the sight of the towering skyscrapers and busy streets down below a canopy of blue sky and tiny specks of light in the distance. 

They sat in silence for a long time, and Peter didn’t rush anything. He sat there, content to look at the sights before him as he waited for Wolf to find the words he needed to say. 

“It’s over.” was what he finally said. 

Peter hummed softly, tilting his head away from the bustling street down below so that he could look at Wolf’s head. 

“I don’t think it will ever really be _over_ ,” he said mournfully. “What they did to us… it’s never going to go away.” 

A part of Peter wished it would. There was nothing he wanted more than for it to go away. For the horrors and the trauma to disappear. Peter wanted to sleep through the night without the nightmares waking him. Wanted to walk down the street without fear of having a flashback from random loud noises. 

But he knew it would never happen. 

“I killed people.” 

Peter’s fist clenched at the pained tone of his friend’s voice. He looked at him then, really looked, and it made Peter want to cry at what he saw. Wolf had been getting better---as better as you could be---after everything. He’d been seeing a therapist regularly, and B.A.R.F had seriously helped him out. Whatever happened to him in Wakanda, helped him a lot. But even with all that, the pain wouldn't just disappear. 

“You did.” Peter responded. He knew better than to give him the placating answers of ‘You weren’t to blame’ and ‘They made you do it’. Those answers didn’t help. 

“I didn’t want to.” 

“You didn’t.” 

It was silent once more, neither party knowing what to say. Neither party knew if words needed to be said. Instead, Peter looked down at the streets once again, and Wolf looked up to see the barely visible stars. 

“They wanted me to be like you.” Peter said finally, breaking the comfortable silence as he looked at Wolf. This time, Wolf looked down to meet Peter’s eyes. “If you hadn’t gotten me out, I would have become you.” 

Wolf’s face was strained, and Peter could tell he was fighting off his emotions. “I never wanted you to be like me.” he said softly. “I wanted you to have a normal, happy life.” 

“I did.” Peter said, leaning back on his arms. “I wish you could have come with me.” 

Wolf looked down at his hands, both the metal and the flesh, and clenched them. “So did I.” he admitted softly. “I wished… But they would have found us. And I would never have forgiven myself.” 

“It’s going to get better.” Peter said then, laying back onto his back so that he could gaze directly up into the dark sky. 

“Is it?” Wolf asked, not scoffing but not entirely convinced either. 

“I hope so.” Peter hummed. 

The silence continued on, and Peter looked up at the indigo sky, squinting past the haze of pollution so that he might see the stars a little better. The only noise came from the light breeze and the busy noises of the streets below. 

“I’m glad you found your way home, Spider.” Wolf said finally. 

Peter sat up on one elbow and smiled at him. “I’m glad you found your way home, too.” 

And they sat together in silence once more. This time, no one spoke until the creeping rays of the sun began to shine through the polluted sky. Wolf stood up, holding his hand out to a drowsy Peter. Peter stood, wincing at his sore muscles, and followed Wolf back inside. 

Peter turned around to glance one last time at the beautiful sky, breathed in the deep and distinct New York scent, and a small smile grew on his face as the honking of horns and chattering of people began once more. 

Yes. It wasn’t perfect, not in a long shot, but it was getting there. And that was enough. 

Peter turned and the door closed behind him with an audible click. 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. What a journey. Thanks so much to everyone who read and enjoyed this story! It's been such a wonderful time and I enjoyed writing this book! I hope you liked the ending. This is the final book and there will be no more left in the series (I know, sorry guys) but if you're interested, check out my profile and look at my other books! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed my book, leave a kudos and a review, and have a wonderful day!!! 
> 
> Stay safe, everyone!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! So just an update on this story and the update schedule: I will _not_ be posting daily. This story is not fully finished hence the reason why the updates will be slightly spaced out. Expect an update every Tuesday and Friday. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you guys are ready for some serious IronDad fluff. :) <3


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